Forever Forward
by Shivawolfe
Summary: In a world haunted by the past, how does one move on to face an uncertain future? The journey is different for each of us. Tifa finds herself trapped in a less than healthy relationship with the man of her dreams. Will the man of nightmares show her the way forward? Takes place 5 years after the events in FFVII. Vincent/Tifa, Cloud/Tifa
1. Prologue

Forever Forward

 **Author Notes:** Hi, guys! Just a few quick thoughts about the journey ahead of you. This is my first fanfiction ever! It is my attempt at a character study and the internal struggles they face. I've been a Final Fantasy fan for the majority of my life and these characters have found a way to really pull me in! I hope you enjoy the story, but be warned! This fiction contains some really violent/graphic scenes at times, (as well as a bit of romance), so please do not read if that sort of stuff bothers you! Also I'm always happy for reviews and constructive criticism! Enjoy!

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any of its character, though I'm going to borrow them for a short while here! This is purely for the fun of expanding on their stories!

Prologue:

So much pain…burning and tearing away inside. It hurt so much, her heart raw and angry, an aching lump in her chest. Yet, it continued to beating warily, with an unshakable determination, even as the pain ate away at her sanity, causing her soul to twist with anguish and worry. How much longer? Was it worth this endless misery? The fear? The uncertainty? The longing?

She sat there watching him, her handsome blonde hero. He was too busy to look at her…focusing instead on picking up toppled chairs and brushing broken glass off the table. Another fight. They were always fighting, pointless bickering that did nothing more than distract them from their real pain, their inevitable and ultimate clash of wills. But she still loved him. Still couldn't imagine her life without him in it. She'd given him everything. Everything she'd had to offer. Her commitment, her love, her body…he'd loved her too for that once, but now…so much had changed. They'd been through so much in five short years that none of them could stay the same, so many secrets uncovered and laid bare. They'd all changed, grown, faced their darkness and embraced a new and better world…especially Cloud. He'd finally conquered what seemed to be the last of his demons. Finally, achieved some sense of peace in the world, but now…in his new life…she didn't have a place by his side. He didn't want her anymore.

To be honest, it'd started years ago…the first time he laid eyes on _her_. Aries, the last of her kind, the last Ancient, beautiful, caring, perfect…everything Tifa tried to be, but it wasn't enough. She just couldn't be who he wanted. She'd never really had a chance.

Cloud put the last chair back under the table, riveted on the task while she sat anxiously on the counter in her oversized night-shirt, watching him. She'd seen him mad before, _insanely_ mad before... it was nothing new. He'd always had a temper, a tendency for that self-destructive brooding of his.

"Cloud…"

"I don't want to hear it, Tifa. You're right, as always. Let's just leave it at that and call it a night." Wariness in that voice…exhaustion.

He had his back to her as he swept the glass into a dustpan, anything…anything not to look at her. But she had to know. "Cloud?" He ignored her, dumping the shattered mess into the trash, another one of her antique glasses, a firm frown set on his handsome face. Tifa's eyes followed his every move, watching the way his muscles tensed and relaxed under his tight fitting clothes, stress etching his body into strong, hard lines. "Cloud?" He stopped what he was doing and turned to face her, Mako enhanced blue eyes snapping in annoyance. "What?" he demanded, not hiding the irritation in his voice.

"Do you still love me?" There was no mistaking the surprise on his face at her question, bellied only by that frustrated anger that seemed so much a part of him.

"Tifa…"

"It's a simple question, Cloud. Do you love me or not?"

He fidgeted nervously, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His bright blue eyes focused on her face. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he stuttered out, "Yes…of course, I do."

But Tifa knew better, she knew that hesitation of his better than she knew herself at times. Silent tears started to pool in the corners of her burgundy eyes, but she wouldn't cry, not now, not in front of him. She'd shed too many tears over him as it was.

A deep breath did little to steady her nerves as she hopped down off the counter, shaking her head ever so slightly. She couldn't face this right now…not without coming apart at the seams.

"I'm going to bed. Don't stay up too late." And with that she left, without so much as a backward glance, leaving him standing in the kitchen with nothing but a ruthless sense of defeat and the bitter taste of inevitability. And Cloud, with his weighty regret and haunted mind, simply watched her go.

For over a year now things had been dicey at best, though neither was ready to admit it. Tifa had known Cloud her entire life, even if they hadn't been the greatest of friends as children. Actually, she hadn't really noticed him at all as a child, but he had her. He joined SOLDIER because of her, determined to prove his worth and impress her. It wasn't until he was gone that she realized how much she'd missed him, but it was too late…he'd disappeared. For years she heard nothing. No one really knew what had happened to Cloud Strife from Nibelheim. Then one day, she found him collapsed and alone on the steps next to the Midigar Train Station, face bloody and smeared with dirt. It had been one of the happiest days of her life. He was alive, a little dirty and confused, sure, but back where she could keep an eye on him, a piece of the puzzle that was her life now snuggly back in its place.

That day…that day had been a turning point like no other. One that set her on the path towards reconciling her past and becoming stronger then she'd ever thought she could be. Reuniting with Cloud had been both one of the best and worst thing to happen to her. But, something was wrong with him. Something that she still didn't understand, even now, had happened to him, changing him from a child full of eager dreams and fragile hopes to a brooding, reluctant shadow of himself.

Tifa sighed in frustration, pressing a tired hand to her aching forehead. But that was five years ago, and still Cloud loved Aeris, probably still blamed himself for her untimely death, though he claimed he was over it all. That girl…so sweet, so innocent, a saving angel for them all; meeting her had brought out a part of Cloud that Tifa had never seen and was afraid he'd never have back again. That caring, devoted, insanely protective part of him that she'd always suspected he'd had buried inside. In just a few short weeks Aeris had stolen his heart…taking it with her when she died…leaving none…nothing for the rest of them. And as much as she wanted to hate the girl, she couldn't. Aeris had been an amazing person after all and some things just weren't meant to be. She knew that, had always known it. Though it seemed it would take more than a few years to finally come to terms with it all.

Tifa grabbed a handful of the bed sheets in a tight fist. She didn't know how much more of this she could handle. Weariness settled over her like a heavy blanket, warm and familiar, but restricting…suffocating. She was tired, her life an emotional roller coaster. Maybe all she needed was a break… to go somewhere and clear her head, somewhere without Cloud for a while. That thought alone eased the pressure in her chest. Well, she could worry about all that later. Right now it was time for bed; she had a bar to run tomorrow after all, and no one wanted a sulky, irritated bar tender.

Shortly after Tifa had fallen asleep Cloud came to bed, even in the dark able to see the creased lines on her forehead and along the corners of her mouth as she cringed in her sleep. But she was still beautiful; he'd be a complete fool not to see it. Her long dark brown hair was shorter than it used to be, coming to her lower back instead of below her bottom like it had in years past. She still had the same shapely curves, her muscles toned and evenly placed from years of Martial Arts training. All in all, she was a beautiful woman of twenty-six. She was everything he'd ever wanted, until he'd met Aeris. Suddenly his whole world had changed; nothing had mattered except for her, loving her, protecting her. But Aeris died. He'd watched her die and he continued to watch her die every night in his dreams.

He would finally be with her, happy, sitting in a field of lush green, watching the clouds roll lazily by, just talking; just holding each other. But the sky would turn black, the once soft breeze changing into a raging hurricane that pulled at their cloths and hair. Aeris would cling to him, her impossibly green eyes desperate for him to save her. But he could never hold on tight enough…she was always swept away in the storm.

"Damn it…not this, not now." Cloud stared at the ceiling sending silent prayers to whoever would listen…make this end. He knew he didn't love Tifa…at least not the way she wanted. He would always love her as a friend and a companion. But even their physical relationship didn't bind him to her. He'd never really looked into her eyes when they'd had sex, he never really saw her…the eyes that stared back at him were always green, bright Mako green.

But she was dead. Dead. Never to return, never needing to feel his arms around her. Cloud reached a trembling hand to his face surprised at the tears in his eyes. How many times had he cried for her? A hundred? A thousand? He shifted his gaze to the sleeping form next to him. Tifa…kind, loving, devoted Tifa. His Tifa…no one else's. He'd lost her once, and it had tormented him, he wouldn't lose her again…no matter how much they fought, she was all he had left. Aspirin for his proverbial migraine, though it never completely went away. She held him together and at the same time drove him insane with her quiet torment and knowing eyes.

He watched her a moment longer before settling down on his back under the sheets, arms crossed behind his head, spiky blond hair pillowing around him. He waited impatiently for sleep to come, staring at the ceiling till his eyes were strained and blood shot, mind racing. Eventually it did, but promised little rest.


	2. Chapter 1

Forever Forward

 **Author Notes:** Hi, guys! Just a few quick thoughts about the journey ahead of you. This is my first fanfiction ever! It is my attempt at a character study and the internal struggles they face. I've been a Final Fantasy fan for the majority of my life and these characters have found a way to really pull me in! I hope you enjoy the story, but be warned! This fiction contains some really violent/graphic scenes at times, (as well as a bit of romance), so please do not read if that sort of stuff bothers you! Also I'm always happy for reviews and constructive criticism! Enjoy!

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any of its character, though I'm going to borrow them for a short while here! This is purely for the fun of expanding on their stories!

Chapter 1: Meetings

As expected the bar was off to another busy afternoon, though most of the patrons that managed to wonder in seemed more interested in shocking their brains into alcoholic overdrive with all sorts of mixed drinks and fancy cocktails rather than calmly nursing a beer to dull their trouble minds. Which was all well and good. Tifa had learned long ago that the most active business happened on the weekends mostly anyway. People seemed to gravitate to bars in the later hours of the day, looking for fun, or chicks, or a place to disappear in for a while. Everyone saw it differently.

Today was business as usual. The only hic-up was she was short staffed…just herself and Susie managing the growing crowd. Jennet was sick at home, calling to say she had some kind of head cold and wouldn't be able to make it for a few days. So here she was… bussing tables like the old days, while Susie manned the bar. She had her hair tied back into a tight ponytail, dressed in blue jeans and a fitted, red print t-shirt. So far she'd managed to ignore the occasional catcalls and sexist remarks, but it wasn't always easy. It had gotten easier over the years; used to be she'd want to throttle the bastard, if just to teach him a lesson. Now it was almost expected, as long as they kept their hands to themselves, of course.

Making yet another trip to the counter she set her empty tray down waiting for Susie to load it up with the next batch of drinks. Susie watched her warmly, a small smile playing across her lips. "Rough night, sweetie?"

Tifa didn't look at her, propped up carefully on the bar messaging a temple with her free hand. "Yeah…you could say that." Susie smiled knowingly; her light green eyes shimmering as she gently pushed some of her shoulder length, curly blond hair behind her ear. "Well don't let it get to you…men will be men. Only happy if there's enough beer and ass to go around. They're not much good with anything else." Tifa shot her friend a bemused look. "Yeah, that's probably pretty true. Just wish the one I had was that simple. Then I wouldn't mind so much. At least he's cute. That's got to count for something."

"Are you kidding me? It's the cute ones you can't trust! Always got some sorta baggage or a toucha crazy mixed in." Tifa laughed a little to herself. 'You have no idea…'

Susie slapped her arm playfully. "Hey! Don't go getting all moody on me. It's gonna be a looong night and this party is just getting started!" Tifa grinned at her infectious enthusiasm. It was one of the things she loved about Susie…the woman could always make her laugh, keeping that smile on her face even in the worst situations. Susie was probably the biggest reason she hadn't gone crazy yet. Yep…even Tifa needed a cheerleader once and awhile. Susie sighed dramatically, "Still…really doesn't matter to me. I'll take what I can get…you don't get to many offers after you're 35." Tifa smiled mischievously. "Oh, shut up. You're still beautiful and you know it!" They both laughed heartily, before Susie reminded Tifa of her waiting patrons.

She stood slowly, waiting patiently for her friend to put the various orders on her tray. It seemed at least one person hadn't come to welcome the evening with open arms. Grabbing her loaded tray, Tifa balanced it carefully on her arm, shooting a dirty look at one man who thought it was a good idea to start pinching first thing in the evening as she expertly weaved her way around chairs.

Finally arriving at the table of interest she set the drinks down. "Alright, one Scotch on the rocks, two cold beers, and a Gin and tonic. Hope you enjoy, let me know if you need anything else." Just as she turned to leave, she spotted someone sitting at the table in the far left corner of the bar. When had he shown up? Oh well, she'd take his order in a minute. Walking the familiar path back to the counter she couldn't help but feel that something was different…like the atmosphere was more…subdued somehow.

The normal evening chatter had quieted itself considerably, although there were a few patrons who seemed oblivious to the hushed atmosphere. Even Susie had noticed the change. "Susie, what's up? Did I miss something?" Her friend turned towards her sharply, her expression a mixture of excitement and mischievousness. "Well.. _yeah_ … You didn't see him come in?" she asked pointing a finger towards the far wall. Tifa followed her arm spotting the same stranger she'd just noticed. She immediately turned back to her employee. "Susie, don't point! It's rude." She just gave Tifa a smug look, but didn't comment, dropping her arm in compliance. "Well, I can't believe you missed him. Did you see his face? He…He had RED eyes. Can you believe it? Red eyes! I don't think I've ever seen anything like that before."

Tifa blinked in surprise. "That's it? You're worked up because a guy walks in with different colored eyes?" Susie just smiled, punching Tifa playfully in the shoulder, "He's probably just wearing colored contacts or something."

"Oh, don't act like you're not interested. Hurry! Go take his order! I want to see what he gets. You can tell a lot about a man just by what he drinks!" Tifa slit her eyes slightly, "Ugh…that's ridiculous. And who's the boss here?" "You are, of course. I'm just keeping you focused." Tifa huffed, putting her hands on her hips in a mock display of offence, before turning to face his table. Just as she was beginning to walk off, Susie grabbed her arm, spinning her around to face her, before leaning in closely to whisper "Hey, if he's nice put in a good word for me, k?" Tifa just smiled at her, shaking her head in amusement. "I'll see what I can do."

This time when Tifa turned to go, nothing stopped her. As she crossed the 800 feet or so of floor to his table, she couldn't help but study him, or what she could see of him. He was sitting with his back to her, gazing silently out the window, chin propped up with his right arm. From what she could see he had long black hair, well black was an understatement…it was raven, so black that the lights gave it an almost navy hue. His skin looked pale, the side of face composed of long angular features. He wore mostly black, black jean pants, with a glossy dark charcoal dress shirt tucked securely into the waist band of his pants. Folded over the back of his chair was a long black coat. Suddenly a thought struck her, causing her to stop in her tracks. 'Could it be?' Tifa walked the rest of the way to his table with purposeful strides, pausing a short distance away. He didn't turn his gaze from the window; seeming not to know she was even there. But Tifa wasn't surprised, excited maybe, and a little nervous. If it really was him, it had been nearly 2 years since they'd last seen each other. "Vincent?" The man in question seemed slightly surprised to hear someone call his name. He turned to face her, locking his crimson eyes on the woman standing next to him. 'It was him!'

Vincent blinked once, "Tifa?" She smiled brightly. "Wow! It really is you! It sure has been awhile. How're doing? Where ya been all this time?" Vincent dropped his gazed to the dull brown table in front of him, not speaking for several seconds. "Around."

Tifa smiled a little to herself, 'same old Vincent.' "Uh huh…that's probably the understatement of the year, but I won't pry. If you're up to it, you should stop by the den sometime if you're going to be in the area for a bit. I know Cloud would be glad to see you. We're not too far from here in the Daylon apartment complex a few minutes down the road. But, enough of that. Can I get you anything this evening?"

Again, a long silence. Just as she was about to give up and leave him alone, he spoke in his deep, steely voice. "No. Thank you. It's good to see you are well. I apologize for not keeping in touch." Well that was odd. Vincent apologizing…he'd never cared before…it just didn't seem to fit. Tifa grinned a little internally, bursting into another bright smile before placing a hand on his shoulder with a friendly pat. "It's fine. I'm just glad to see your face around here. You look good…all things considered."

He tensed almost immediately when her hand touched his shoulder, but he didn't stop her. It was just her way; love and friendship to everyone, even to someone like him.

She stepped back a second later, losing some of her smile when she noticed him relax ever so slightly as she pulled her hand away. She'd forgotten he wasn't a huge fan of being touched. "Sorry Vincent. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Still, you really should have something. Sure you don't want a beer or…a glass of wine maybe, while you're here?" Vincent sighed slightly; he really wasn't expecting any of the former Avalanche members to be living in this part of Neo-Midgar…to close to too many bad memories. He turned away from Tifa again, staring blankly out the window to the busy evening outside. She stood there a moment longer, waiting, watching him. He was still the quiet, morose man from before, but something was different about him. He seemed to have finally gained some small measure of closure…perhaps one less burden on his shoulders, like his silence was more a remembered habit than a conscious effort to keep people out.

"Well, let me know if you want anything, Vincent. All you have to do is ask." Content for the moment to leave him to his thoughts, she turned to leave, surprised when he spoke up.

"Do you serve hot tea?"

Tifa beamed in delight, "Sure. I'll have it ready for you in just a moment." Before she turned to leave she couldn't help but add, "It really is good to see you again, Vincent. We've missed you. I hope the soul searching did you some good."

Amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth, though the emotion was short lived. He hadn't truly smiled in quite a while. Leave it to Tifa to crack his shell with just a few friendly words. It would seem something was determined to keep him connected to his comrades from Avalanche no matter where he went; a strangely annoying blessing in and of itself, though he was hard pressed to deem Tifa's presence an annoyance. He'd have to be careful around her though…the fact the woman could be surprisingly perceptive at times may prove problematic if he decided to stay in this city for any length of time. Although the former members of Avalanche knew more about him than any others, there were still many aspects of his past and his current life that he wished to keep private.

He sighed tiredly, right hand threading through long hair as he leaned back in his chair, continuing to watch the world outside. Sometimes it seemed as if there would always be something holding him back…something that stood between him and the rest of the world. He could see it, watch it and contemplate, but never touch it…like a sheet of glass. But _she_ had insisted he move on, that he attempt to live with the people he so desperately tried to stay away from. She told him it was the only way she could forgive herself for what she'd done to him. To forgive herself for hurting _him_? Vincent had to bite back a smug laugh. Hell, why not? It was funny. He'd always thought just the opposite. He owed her for turning his back on her when she'd needed him most. He owed the world for not stopping ShinRa's crazy experiment in its infancy when the option was still a possibility. But so much had happened…so much more had been revealed in the last year in a half that he wasn't sure who he was anymore. She'd told him to find out, to try again. So… here he was, sitting in a bar full of people he didn't know (that had been the plan at least), trying to adjust to the feel of people…life around him. Because _she'd_ asked and he was a fool who couldn't tell her no. He shook his head slightly. What did he really have to lose anyway?

Vincent was so lost in his own thoughts he didn't notice the excited whispering happening just a few feet behind him. Susie was bursting with excitement upon Tifa's return. "So…who is he? You obviously know him. Was he one of your friends from Avalanche?"

"Susie, stop being so nosy and get me a hot tea steeping." The blonde made a sour face, not exactly satisfied with Tifa's answer, but did as she was told, disappearing behind the counter for a mug. She returned a moment later with a tea bag soaking in the hot water. "Come on, Tifa! Tellllll meeeee." Tifa had to fight back a snort of laughter at Susie's whinny plea, her puppy dog eyes nearly bringing the younger woman to tears. "Alright! Alright! Yes, that's how I know him. But leave him alone; he likes to have his privacy, ok?" Susie just pouted a little more before giving Tifa an awkward hug over the counter. "Fine…I suppose I can back off for now, but if you end up making a move on him, I get your left overs!" Tifa stared blankly at her friend. Where the hell had that come from?

Tifa opened her mouth to ask just that when Susie started pointing yet again. "Oooh, Oooh! Tifa hurry up! He's leaving!" Tifa turned around quickly. Sure enough Vincent was standing and in the process of pulling his coat on; being careful not to shred the fabric with the sharp metal talons of his atificial left hand, something else that hadn't changed about him in the last two years. Susie had suddenly gone quiet upon seeing it, and Tifa found a sort of morbid satisfaction in that fact. The woman had no idea just how many monsters (human and not) that had met their end because of those metal fingers.

Grabbing the still steaming mug of tea, she started off after her unexpected guest. "Wait. Vincent, wait a second." He paused with his clawed fingers on the doorknob, his face blank. Tifa reached him a second later. "Don't you want your tea?"

Vincent looked at her for a second, silently studying her features, she really didn't look much older, perhaps more fatigued then he remembered, though not overly so. Just more experienced, less the young girl she had been when he'd first met her 5 years ago. He knew she'd never really had a chance to be a little girl though, she'd seen so much at such a young age. She'd lost her mother, father, and town before she was even 17 years old. All very tragic and undeserved surely…though, his sympathy could only go so far…he'd still seen more. Much, much more.

"My train is here."

Tifa blinked, a little surprised by his response, and when she didn't answer right away Vincent turned once again to leave.

"W...wait. Just take it with you. Don't worry about the mug." There was a kind smile on her face, "You can just drop it off the next time you come by if you want."

Vincent realized the implication of her words, as if she expected to see him again soon, like any one of her regulars. He shook his head slowly, turning towards the door again. He should just go, before more attachments were looped around him. He still wasn't convinced he was ready for them yet. This was something he didn't want his old comrades involved with, not yet. An urgent hand on his sleeve pulled him from his thoughts.

"Vincent…please, just take it! You'll be glad you did later. Trust me...I wouldn't steer you wrong." Normally she wouldn't be this pushy, but Vincent looked like he could use a little pick me up. If it had been Cloud he would have turned on her angrily, telling her not to boss him around, to just leave him alone, that he could take care of himself, blah, blah, blah.

But Vincent didn't do any of those things; he just looked at her over his shoulder. There was no anger or frustration anywhere on his face. He didn't look upset or impatient. In fact he didn't seem to care at all, but he took the mug from her, a quiet sigh of defeat falling from his lips. Tifa tried not to act too excited at her little victory, sincerely glad she'd won this small clash of wills. Vincent wasn't an easy cookie to crumble after all.

Having done as she asked, said cookie finished turning the doorknob, leaving as silently as he'd come. Tifa managed to mutter a late "Good bye" before returning to her work, quietly ignoring Susie's smug grin. This was certainly proving to be an interesting evening.

Vincent sat silently on the crowded train, sipping his tea every now and again as he thought. So Tifa and Cloud no longer lived in their condo in Coast De Sol. Well, really it wasn't too surprising; even paradise could get old after a while. Tifa must have decided to open shop here after Cloud took his new position as the head of Neo-Midgar's Vermin Control Specialists...aka city regulated monster killers. Vincent sighed quietly. Doubtless she was tired of following him from one job to another by now.

The wind gusted suddenly, rocking the train as it sent a swirl of multicolored leaves flying through the air. It seems winter was on the way early this year, his breath was leaving a thin haze on the train window, or maybe it was because he was drinking something hot. Whatever…didn't matter. Tifa was right; he was glad he'd taken the tea after all. The warm liquid was soothing to his tense nerves; it would dispel some of his weariness for sure. But he'd have to go back, to return the mug of course. He wasn't really sure why, but the thought made him uneasy.

Vincent sighed weakly, leaning his burning forehead against the window's cold, indifferent glass. He'd managed to get a job. He was a "Weapons Specialist" for a company called Tsuna Michi's. The company not only sold guns and various other weapons, but they designed and tested them as well. Vincent tested them, gave each new weapon his appraisal. And he had been amazed by what he'd seen; the advancement from the firearms he'd used years ago was astonishing. It was a strangely fitting profession for him. Weapons, firearms, were one of the few things he really knew anything about, and for the most part he only had to deal with one or two people at any given time to file his reports, making it that much better.

Suddenly the train came to a squeaky stop, announcing its arrival in East End along with the automated voice over the intercom. Vincent, and a few other riders, stood and waited for the mechanical doors to slide open. The air out side was indeed chilly, but he didn't really feel it, absently shoving his hands into his pockets. Suddenly his thoughts strayed again back to Tifa and her kind smile, how long had it been since he'd seen her? A little over 2 years at least. Still she'd acted like it was nothing, like she was simply saying "Hi" to an old friend from her childhood years, but he could tell she was weary inside. Tired in a way that was beyond just physical…a type of weary he was well acquainted with. He almost wondered why?

Vincent shook his head in annoyance. Why was he suddenly so interested in the little details of her life? It's not like he had any reason to really care. They'd all been through rough times and had to deal with the pain, the memories, themselves. Tifa was no exception. Somehow Avalanche's motley band of companions had managed to save the Planet from being destroyed by a man and a company with matching God complexes. However, Vincent often found himself wondering if it was really worth it. Did he really want to save a world that would never, could never except him? 'Ah, but that's being selfish, wasn't it?' He got what he deserved…he couldn't blame his situation on anyone but himself. Hojo and Lucrecia, Sephiroth, ShinRa…they'd all done as they saw fit. And he'd done exactly the same.

Vincent realized suddenly that he'd just completely zoned out. There were people waiting to board the train through the door he was currently standing in, all bet impatiently. If he'd been anyone else, there would have been an embarrassed blush on his face. But he wasn't, he was simply Vincent, and Vincent Valentine didn't blush. Not that it mattered, none of the passengers dared shove by him with his dark demeanor and blood red eyes, as if they were leery of his very presence, aware on a subconscious level of the past he knew he'd never escape from. He could feel their curious glances on all sides, but he simply walked forward silently, gracing not a single person with his gaze.

With the door cleared and the tall, dark passenger moving on his way, the normal chaotic flow begin again. Vincent walked silently the rest of the way to his apartment, keeping both hand and claw deep in his coat pockets, his eyes on the pavement in front of him. He didn't seem to notice how people would walk on the farthest side of the sidewalk to avoid him, or the whispered comments that rang too loudly in his genetically enhanced ears. He'd learned long ago to tune them out…that was until a particular comment caught his attention.

"Strife? Who the hell is that?" A gravelly male voice suddenly sneered.

"You know…the guy with the spiky blonde hair? One of them…them Avalanche people."

"Who?"

"Are you dense or what? The guy living with that dishy bar tender, used to be in Avalanche." The first man, who looked to be in his late 40's or so, rolled his eyes at his younger partner. The second man, who appeared to be 25 at most, looked annoyed at his companion's apparent stupidity. Vincent noticed how dirty and worn their clothes were; their hands callused with hard work. He guessed them to be construction workers of some sort, maybe even regulars at Tifa's bar. Admittedly interested in the conversation, he paused in his short walk to lean casually on a telephone pole so he could listen to the conversation on the other side of the street.

"Oh…that guy! Why didn't you say so earlier? Yeah, what about him?"

"I heard they got into another fight…neighbor heard them yelling the other night. Seems to be happening a lot lately." He grinned suggestively. "Maybe I should go console her or something, if you know what I mean." The younger man, little more than a boy really, couldn't seem to wipe the stupid grin off his face. Vincent frowned imperceptibly, 'so that's why she looked so tired.'

"Yeah well…wonder if she likes older men…I sure wouldn't mind putting it to her for a night. Hehehe! I'd make her forget about what's his name in no time."

Vincent sneered with disgust 'Trash, the lot of them.' He decided to move on, considering the direction their conversation had taken, and the scalding temptation he had to break their necks.

Tifa and Cloud were fighting? He hadn't expected that; they seemed so in love before, the perfect team, just like he had been all those years ago with Lucrecia. But Lucrecia…she'd wanted something he couldn't possibly offer. To be a part of something that would etch her name in the history books. She'd been consumed with her career, her research. Now she was dead, because he hadn't stopped her. He'd let her die.

Pushing a strand of his raven hair behind his ear, Vincent continued on his way down the road, walking through the front door of his apartment complex a few minutes later. The building manager, an elderly man with graying hair and a nearly comical moustache smiled at him as he walked in the door, before quickly returning to the massive pile of paperwork he'd been sorting on his desk.

Vincent made his way through the large building to the back elevators, where he waited patiently for the doors to open. With a soft hiss and a loud chime signaling the elevators arrival, the doors slid open. Vincent stepped in quietly; strangely annoyed to have to share the small space with anyone. There was a woman standing to the back, her arms crossed protectively over a stack of clothes. Her brown eyes grew to the size of saucers as he stepped into the elevator. It seemed like she would say something to him at first, but she only managed to glance nervously in his direction, the color draining from her cheeks. Vincent ignored her with practiced indifference.

His room was on the 3rd floor and a decent walk from the elevator. Vincent made his way down the hall, pulling his keys from his jacket pocket with his right hand, while holding Tifa's now empty mug loosely in his metal talons. He stopped suddenly, listening silently to the empty hallway behind him before pushing the key into the lock and turning the tumbler. Once again he stopped to listen…using his enhanced hearing to confirm a lack of unwanted visitors…and sighed…some habits…even the extremely old ones were hard to let go. Once inside he returned his keys to his jacket, pulling his 9mm from his pants pocket, before doing a quick sweep of the apartment. Empty…good. Being a member of Avalanche had been a mixed bag…sure, he got his revenge, helped save the Planet, maybe even picked up a few friends along the way, but with notoriety came unwanted attention. People knew who he was now…well not everyone, but the not so savory ones, ShinRa people who'd lost it all, their future, their relatives, their identities, could find him easily enough, and would do whatever it took to get their revenge. It was because of Avalanche that ShinRa was no more, and Vincent knew personally that the passing of a few years would do little to dull the need for vengeance from those who truly sought it.

Once sure he was alone in the apartment, Vincent set about winding down for the evening, before long able to drown himself in comforting routine, trying to focus on anything but those burgundy eyes bouncing around in his head. Finally, unable to come up with a better idea, he headed to the bathroom. Perhaps a shower would distract him for a while. He certainly hoped so…


	3. Chapter 2

**Author Notes:** Hi, guys! Hope you are enjoying the story so far! I've always been a Cloud/Tifa fan, but something about their dynamic just doesn't seem to work for me. Be prepared for some drama ahead! As before, I'm always happy for reviews and constructive criticism! Enjoy!

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any of its character, though I'm going to borrow them for a short while here! This is purely for the fun of expanding on their stories!

Chapter 2: Surprises

What a long day. Cloud heaved a tired sigh, his enormous sword slung lazily over his shoulder. That bastard had put up quite a fight, more than the customary flotsam and he'd gotten unusually careless. The large gash across is right arm was proof enough, but such was the job. Ridding Neo-Midgar of all things monstrous and unsavory to insure public safety and all that…at least it kept the bills paid. It was physically demanding work and usually left him exhausted, but Cloud found the rewards to be greater. Not only was he slowly helping the planet get back to normal, but he was able to keep his sword skills sharp. Just in case…

Cloud pulled his worn leather jacket tighter around himself, a sudden gust of cold wind blasting it open. He grit his teeth as a chill racked his body; winter was defiantly beginning to throw its weight around. In no real rush to return home, he continued down the road, walking at a slow, leisurely pace as he took in his surroundings. Neo-Midgar was a sight to behold now. The city had managed to improve on its predecessor's previous faults. Slums were practically none existent in this place since there was a less dramatic class division than the one its predecessor had boasted. Everyone wanted to rebuild, still focusing on getting back on their feet after nearly losing it all in a fiery disaster 5 years prior. Though crime did exist, it was much less severe than in most cities of the same size, usually only comprising of petty thefts or bar and gang fights.

Industry was booming. Most of the shops and privately owned businesses had tripled in the past couple of years. Restaurants, coffee shops, and clothing stores where abundant and dotted nearly every street corner in the downtown areas. New neighborhoods and apartment housing were becoming a more and more frequent sight, popping up everywhere to accommodate the rapidly growing population. They'd even begun "greening" up the place, planting trees and shrubs down the sidewalks, flower boxes hanging from the windows, adding those little personal touches of plant life to stave off the memory of oppressive metal and stale air.

Cloud took a long, deep breathe to quite those memories as he made his way home, barely noticing the dozens of people walking briskly on either side of him. A few paused long enough to give him grateful smiles, while others just hurried past lost in their own worlds. He managed to nod and smile at a few of them, not really paying attention to who they were…most likely neighbors or patrons he'd see later. Cloud stopped momentarily to readjust his heavy sword; pushing the sliding strap back up on his shoulder…momentarily experiencing a vague sense of sympathy for women with annoying sliding purse straps.

Once situated, he picked up the pace; foot falls echoing loudly off the cement. Suddenly he noticed a familiar face walking towards him, completely lost in her own little world. Another cold gust of wind blasted the street's occupants sending the woman's curly blonde hair across her face and into her mouth. She stopped, sputtering, pulling her hair out of her mouth in obvious annoyance. Cloud laughed heartily, amusement plastered across his handsome face. The woman looked up at the sound, looking for all the world as if she would smack whoever it was that had the balls to be amused by her misfortune. She recognized him almost immediately, shaking her head in disbelief, a smile stretching across her face as well. "Hey Cloud. You back from monster slaying already?" Her green eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Hey, Susie. Lunch break?"

"Yeah, guess you could say that. Tifa is giving me an hour off for lunch today. Wonder what's making her feel so generous?" Susie cocked her head to the side as if really expecting an answer. Cloud simply shook his head.

"It couldn't have been anything I said to her. My long winded sermons on the morale boosting value of longer lunch breaks haven't gotten her to change her mind in the last two years I've been nagging her about it. I doubt they'd start to now." She put a thoughtful finger to her lip, tapping it lightly in a strictly "Susie" manner. "Maybe…maybe it was because of that guy that came in. She sure seemed excited about seeing him again. He came back to return her mug just before I left. Maybe, she just wanted to be alone to talk."

Cloud's smile lost some of its grandeur, a flash of some dark emotion taking hold of him. "What'd you say? Some guy came to see her?"

Her eyes darted to his face quickly, as if surprised by his question, before a sly smile slide across her face. "Oh, don't get all jealous. She said he was from Avalanche…so you should know him. I'm not completely sure but, I think she said his name was Vincent. Tall…black hair…red eyes… Sound familiar?"

Cloud's whole body relaxed as he nodded in affirmation… he hadn't realized how tense he'd been. Then it hit him. Vincent was here? So he was still alive and in one piece. No one had heard from him in nearly 2 years. Cloud's thoughts drifted back to the last time he'd seen the man. It was about a week after Avalanche had defeated the last of the remaining underground ShinRa troops…before they'd all gone their separate ways. The entire gang was standing out in front of a small hotel saying their temporary goodbyes. Vincent had not been in the group, instead choosing to stand off to the side some distance as if he didn't want to have anything to do with the tearful, yet smiling crowd of his comrades. He'd been staring off in the opposite direction, his expression blank, the wind blowing his long black hair in tangled patterns around him.

As per usual, he'd been dressed in his normal attire, all black leather with his battle worn crimson cape, and the knee high steel toed boots which made him the pinnacle of unapproachable. Cloud had wondered on more than one occasion, what he'd been thinking about at that moment…so alone…so far away from the group. He'd announced later that he was planning on continuing his journey to find a new path free from his past and that he didn't want to be followed. He never said where he planned to go, but Cloud had respected his decision; it couldn't be easy to adjust to a world 30 years out of place, especially after all that had happened to him…and all he'd recently learned. Still… no one had heard from him in so long they'd assumed he'd either gone back to that dusty coffin in the Shinra Mansion or that he'd disappeared somewhere on his journey never to be seen again. But when the news that the Manson of Nightmares had been burned down reached him, he'd just figured…

A soft giggling voice woke him from his thoughts. Cloud blinked in confusion as a hand passed in front of his vacantly staring eyes. Susie just laughed at his surprise. "Helllllooooo! You out in la la land. What are you thinking?"

Cloud looked at her, a small embarrassed blush coloring his cheeks. "Sorry about that. I know who you're talking about though…yeah Vincent. Wonder if he looks any different now?"

Susie shrugged, a small blush on her face. "Don't know, but he's pretty hot. I mean damn. He's got the whole tall, dark, and handsome thing down pat…maybe a little creepy though…red eyes…all that black." Cloud could only blink in surprise. Vincent and hot just didn't fit together in his mind at all. Maybe tall, dark, and moody did, but certainly not "hot". Cloud shook his head slightly, his smile returning. "Well, I don't know if he's still there anyway now. Like I said he only came to return that mug, and that was about 15 minutes ago. Maybe you'll be able to see him later. In any case I've got to go. I'm going to enjoy my long lunch to its fullest!" With a friendly hug, Susie skipped off, stopping farther down the sidewalk to yell back at him. "Oh and Cloud, you'd better remember to take good care of Tifa. She deserves it, you know!" Cloud raised a gloved hand to wave back not quite sure what she meant by that. With his characteristic shrug, he began the trip back, hoping Tifa would be glad to see him home early.

Tifa was more than a little annoyed at the sound of the doorbell chiming as someone walked into the bar on muted feet. She _knew_ she hadn't forgotten to flip the Open sign to Closed. She placed her half eaten sandwich back on her plate and stood up, walking to the door of the hidden room situated behind the bar itself. She was going to give someone holy hell for interrupting her lunchtime. She stormed past Susie on her way to the door. They were the only ones who should still be there until the evening shift after all. However, rounding the corner, she stopped short on recognizing the man standing there.

"Vincent?"

He looked up, face unreadable. Tifa felt her pulse jump when his crimson eyes found hers, always momentarily shocked to see their unusual color and the undeniable intensity of his stare. Maybe it was a little immature, but she's always hesitated to make eye contact with him back in Avalanche. Something about him always made her feel self-conscious and weak…. Susie chose that exact moment to come to the front of the store, pausing in mid step when she saw him. Tifa turned to look at her friend, noticing the quirky smile on her pink lips. Uh oh. She knew that smile. Better get her out of here before she said something embarrassing. "Hey, Susie? Why don't you go get something nice for lunch today? Take an hour."

Susie turned her gaze to Tifa, completely distracted from the comment she was about to make. "Really? I can eat out! I really get a whole hour?" Tifa nodded, a little surprised by her enthusiasm. "Sure, you're pulling extra duty. You deserve it." Susie whooped excitedly, hastily grabbing her coat and heading for the door. "Jennet's going to be pissed she missed out on this!" Tifa smiled as she watched her go. 'Sure hope I have that much energy in my 30's.' Vincent casually stepped aside as she flew past him out the door.

Tifa turned her attention back to the tall man in front of her. "Now that that's taken care of…Hi, Vincent, what brings you back here so soon? You forget something?"

Vincent regarded her silently for a moment before answering. "Returning your mug." Tifa blinked, "Oh. Already? I didn't mean to make you think you had to return it right away. You could have just dropped it off whenever you had the time. You didn't have to make a special trip."

Vincent reached into his inside coat pocket, pulling the small mug from its confines. He paused with it in hand for a moment longer than necessary as he studied her expression. Tifa felt his gaze on her face like a hot brand as he watched her with those intense red eyes before quickly moving to hand her the mug. Tifa reached out distractedly, trying to avoid his eyes as she glanced away, her hand accidentally touching his warm fingers in her awkward haste. Vincent jerked his hand back from the contact, startled, though his expression never changed, surprising her as well. Tifa knew he didn't like to be touched, but…geez…he acted like she'd bit him or something. Before she had time to get offended, Vincent turned his back to her and headed for the door. In her shock at his sudden attempted departure she almost let him go, before her long ingrained hospitality reared its bothersome head. Awkwardness be damned…this man had once been a friend… putting himself in the line of fire to watch her back on more than one occasion.

"Wait, Vincent. You're on your lunch break too, right? Since you're here you might as well have something to eat. I made turkey, ham, and cheese sandwiches for Susie and I, but since she's gone there's no way I can eat it all myself. There's also a pot of tomato soup on the stove in the back I'm willing to share."

Vincent paused, staring out the glass door before turning to look at her over his shoulder. Tifa watched him quietly, he seemed almost indecisive. She'd never seen him indecisive before; he did everything with such purpose it was like he followed a carefully rehearsed script, every step already written out before it ever happened. She smiled internally at the thought. He probably didn't have a spontaneous bone in his body, but then again…who knew?

"Come on, Vincent…when's the last time you had soup and sandwiches? Not since the last time we were all together I bet. Besides we've got catching up to do, I need to fill you in on what's happened to everyone in the last couple of years." Vincent still said nothing, but eventually nodded in consent. Tifa practically beamed. "Good. Follow me, and we'll get you fed."

In no time the two were seated at a table in the back room, sandwiches and soup waiting to be devoured. Tifa didn't wait for him, picking up her half-finished lunch from before, glowing at her new company. Vincent hesitated a moment, before reaching down with his good hand and picking up one of his own. It was just a basic sandwich, of course, but it had been sooo long since he'd been able to sit down and enjoy such simple pleasures after being on the road for months at a time. It was so strangely and inexplicably …normal. He wasn't quite sure what to do with normal…

Tifa finished off her last bite quickly, starting on her soup, that self-satisfied smile still plastered to her face. "How's the sandwich, Vincent. Too boring?" He shook his head, swallowing the mouthful he had. "No. It has been some time since I've been able to sit and share a simple meal." Tifa nearly burst with pride. "Well I'm glad. You looked like you might have needed a break. Do you want to hear about how everyone else is doing?"

Vincent didn't respond right away, shifting his gaze to the soup still waiting to be eaten in the small porcelain bowl before looking back at her. "If you wish."

Tifa sat up straight in her chair, clearing her throat softly.

"Well, were to begin? Cid married Shera and they're living in Rocket Town. He's the head of the new Space EPA group, that's been working with what's left of the ShinRa space program's technology to finally get some people off this planet. I hear they're expecting a baby in the next couple of months too. Not sure if it'll be a boy or a girl, since they decided not to find out from the doctors early, said it would ruin the surprise." Tifa paused long enough to unapologetically slurp down what was left of her soup, before continuing.

"Red is the new Elder in Cosmo Canyon now. He seems to be coping well, but he still has that fire in him that we all loved so much. I think he's just itching to go on another adventure. The whole quite, knowledgeable guardian thing is kind of a tough gig for him since he's still so young." Vincent nodded, swallowing a mouthful of soup as Tifa continued on. The look on her face was priceless, like watching a child explain to their parents the art of finger painting. You wouldn't dream of interrupting such excitement even if it was nearly impossible to take them completely seriously.

"Yuffie is in charge of Wutai, it seems she made up with dear old dad, at least for now. You know how those two can get…always arguing about something or other. Hum…what else? Barret is back in Coral. He's got a girlfriend now, but I can't remember her name for the life of me. I really should be able to too. He talks about her all the time." Tifa paused to think a moment, absently tapping the soup in her hand.

"I think its…Martha…Marsha, something like that. Anyway, he seems to be pretty happy…trying to help out all those people he thinks he let down. The town has grown quite a bit in the last year. As for Reeve, he's still in charge of the WRO, and is thinking about starting a major energy conservation company. Kind of ironic, huh?"

Vincent nodded watching her intently as he swallowed another spoonful of soap. "As for Cloud and I, we live down the road a ways in a nice apartment complex. It's not the best, but I've seen worse. I told you that before though, huh? So I guess that's about it. Everyone is doing well and moving on quite nicely, all things considered."

Vincent nodded, satisfied, on some level, to hear that his old comrades were doing well. Tifa was smiling at him again, wanting some sort of response. She probably wanted to hear about what he'd been up to the last few years. He had no intentions of telling her however. It was much too personal a story for casual conversation. After a few silent seconds Tifa realized her quiet companion wasn't going to comment and so she shrugged, putting the spoon to her mouth to lick it clean. "So how long have you been in town?"

"A few days."

"I see…and you already got a job. I'm impressed. Guess you were in the right place at the right time."

"It would seem so."

Vincent was watching her out of the corner of his eye. She still looked tired to him, although she was hiding it well. Suddenly the conversation from earlier popped into his head. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but stopped. He had no right to pry into her life. Tifa, however, noticed the small change in his expression. "What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing."

Tifa looked doubtful. "Oh, come on. Go ahead and say it. I won't bite, I promise." She was picking on him. Vincent shook his head again, mentally scolding himself for forgetting how observant she could be. "Come on. Please?"

He shifted his gaze to a picture on the wall, avoiding her questioning stare. Her eyes always seemed to be able to see right through him. It was a little unnerving at times to be honest. Like he was losing his edge.

"It really isn't appropriate for me to ask."

"Aww…now you have to tell me! You can't just bait someone like that and expect them to let go. I know you have better manners than that." Vincent studied the woman in front of him, suddenly remembering another of her more…exasperating traits… that undying persistence. He exhaled quietly through his nose, knowing he was going to regret this later, and nodded.

"Fine…you asked." There was a long pause before he continued.

"Are you happy here, Tifa?"

She blinked not sure she heard him correctly. "Pardon?"

This time he turned to face her, propping himself up with his elbow on the table, his eyes focusing on her with a strange intensity.

"Are you happy here? Are you satisfied with the way things are? You seem…tired."

Tifa couldn't believe what she was hearing, and from Vincent no less. He was the last person she ever expected to voice any concern for her well-being. Her first reaction was no…not really, but he didn't need to know that. Why would he want to know anyway? Since when had he cared?

"Y…Yes. I'm happy. I have everything I could want. I own a very successful bar only a few minutes away from my apartment, where I live with the man I've always wanted. I have wonderful friends and employees. I get to make my own hours, and my own rules." She paused. "Yes…I am doing just fine. Why?"

Vincent's expression didn't change, but he flicked his eyes away, staring once again at the painting on the wall. He stayed quite, processing her words before saying more, the faintest hint of a frown on his face.

"You shouldn't lie Tifa. It doesn't suit you." Her first reaction was to feel hurt, but that didn't last long as her anger began to take over, anger at having her carefully guarded secret so nonchalantly brought out in the open…and by someone who hardly knew anything about her.

"I'm…I'm not lying! I _am_ happy." She protested, affronted. "I'm happier than I've ever been in my life. Where do you get off assuming something like that? It's not like you've been around enough to prove any differently."

"I think your anger is proof enough." Tifa was livid. 'Oh no, he did not!'

"I…I can't believe you! Just…just because you're unhappy and suffering doesn't mean the rest of the world is! What do you know about it anyway, Vincent? Why don't you just stick with what you're good at? You know, staying out of people's lives. I'm fine, damn it!"

Tifa slammed her fist down on the table, rattling the china. Vincent didn't flinch, nor did he look at her, not until he heard her muffled sigh.

Tifa had her head bowed, her long brown hair spilling across her shoulder. She still had her fist clenched tightly, a silent tear leaking from the corner of her eye. Where…where the hell had that come from? Why was she crying all of a sudden? She ground her teeth in frustration. 'What's wrong with me? Why am I acting this way?' Another flash of anger surged forth. 'What the hell does he know anyway?'

Even so Tifa continued to cry, soft tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. Vincent hated tears; hated how they could crack his indifferent exterior when they belonged to someone he cared about. Not that he cared of course. The only person he'd ever really cared about was Lucrecia. Poor, dead Lucrecia. Her tears had melted his icy heart more surely then any he'd ever encountered. Even the memory of her tear streaked face could set his blood on fire. But he'd never been able to make them go away. Vincent pursed his lips tightly, the only indication that he was paying attention to the situation at all, willing such thoughts away as Tifa continued to weep silently, lost to her thoughts.

After what felt like ages, she finally looked up, wiping her tears away with an annoyed hand. She locked her gaze on the side of Vincent's smooth pale face. There wasn't really any outward indication, but Tifa knew she'd made him uncomfortable. She might be angry with him at the moment, but he was her friend and probably meant well… and the last thing she wanted was to chase him off because of her own weakness.

"Look…I'm sorry, Vincent. I didn't mean to say those things to you. I'm not sure what just happened." Vincent didn't say anything, but he met her burgundy eyes, his clawed fingers twitch slightly as if mimicking his state of mind. He'd just hit a nerve…that's what happened. He'd found the one place she was most vulnerable and tapped a little too hard.

"Still…you had no right to say something like that to me. My life whether I'm happy or not is for me to deal with. It's no one else's concern." Tifa said the words slowly and stiffly, not denying his claim, but not encouraging his interference either.

Suddenly a question popped into her head, and she was hard pressed to ignore it.

"What brought this on anyway Vincent? I don't act depressed and I haven't hinted at anything. Why would you say I was lying?"

Vincent sighed tiredly, pushing his right hand under his bandana to rub at his throbbing temple…might as well be honest at this point. "Observation mostly. You are weary. I can see it in your face…in your eyes mostly."

Tifa sat back, and crossed her arms, ready to deny his… _observations_. "I heard you've been fighting with Cloud too." Tifa's eyes went wide, her lips parting in shock. "Where…how did you? How do you know that?" Vincent looked away, crossing his arms over his chest as he sank back into his chair. "I overheard it from a couple of construction workers on my way to work." Tifa looked astonished, how did anyone know about her fights except for the few she'd told? Had the rumors really spread that far? Tifa looked back at the quite man on the other side of the table only to realize he was gone. She blinked, and then searched the area quickly. He wasn't in the room at all!

Jumping to her feet, she ran to the closed bar area spotting him as he headed to the front door. She reached him before he could leave, grabbing his sleeve to stop him. "Vincent! Wait! Where are you going?" He looked down at the offending hand, then back up to her face, resisting the urge to pull away. "Why did you ask me if I was happy? Why do you even care?" He shook her hand off, turning again towards the door. "Damn it! Vincent, answer me! Why? What the hell is all this about?"

He didn't look at her as he spoke, hating himself for running away, but unable to leave her without some answer at least. His words were almost too quiet to hear when he finally relented. "Because you, Tifa, more than any of us, deserves to be happy."

She stared at him in disbelief, unable to processes her thoughts in the wake of such an uncharacteristic statement. Once again, her eyes grew moist as she absorbed this new information, her anger evaporating away.

Vincent watched her with an indecisive mind. He should go; he knew that, before he made things worse. It wasn't the first time he'd made someone cry, but she was bleeding inside from a wound he'd forced her to acknowledge once again. He could escape her pain easily enough, but she could not. And now… she couldn't ignore it either. He turned away sharply. 'Enough of this.' His mind spat angrily. He should leave, before he hurt her more. He'd known better. Fool.

However, just as he turned to go, Tifa reached for him again, pulling him into a tight and certainly unexpected hug. Vincent stiffened immediately at the contact, using every ounce of his self-control not to rip himself free from her trembling arms. He held his hand and claw in tight fist at his sides, staring straight ahead; waiting for her to let him go. What she did instead nearly drove him mad.

Oblivious to his strained discomfort, Tifa pressed herself against him, burying her face in his shirt, tears flowing freely now. She was crying out over 5 years of pent up frustration, and she need to hold someone, anyone. She needed to be held too. Vincent let out a quite sigh through his clenched teeth, trying to calm his screaming nerves. Tifa was trembling, shaking with sobs. She needed this, and so he let her hold on a little longer, before slowly trying to pull away.

Her reaction, however, was not what he'd had in mind as she simply held on tighter like letting go would kill her. "Don't go yet, Vincent. Just another minute…" Slowly, reluctantly, two strong, warm arms encircled her and she sighed tiredly, a strange comforting relief seeping through her as his warmth spread through her chilled limbs. Even so she continued to cry. Tears…so many tears. Years and years worth flowing free for the first time after so long trying to be strong.

Vincent could only see the top of her head when he looked down at her. Her long auburn hair pulled back into a high ponytail. She just stood there, her face still buried in his black shirt. He was finally starting to relax a little. It wasn't like she was going to stab him in the back or anything. Besides, he knew if he pulled away now, it would only crush her. Vincent sighed internally. He already had enough reasons to hate himself as it was.

As the minutes rolled by, her tears became less severe; her sobbing hiccups grew less frequent. Finally, Tifa looked up into Vincent's face, a sad smile spreading across her own, but she could read nothing from his expression. She blinked as if noticing how close he was for the first time. A soft click ripped his eyes away from hers, Tifa slower to look in the direction of the sound. Vincent pulled away suddenly, and she immediately missed his warmth, a little confused by his behavior. When she finally did trace his gaze towards the sound her eyes widened in shock, a quiet gasp escaping her lips.

"Cloud?"


	4. Chapter 3

**Author Notes:** Hi, guys! Thanks a ton for the reviews so far! Certainly helps to keep me motivated to update as soon as I can. I've always enjoyed the idea of placing Vincent in uncomfortable situations and seeing how he handles them. No too evil of me, right? Nothing wrong with watching them squirm a little! As before, I'm always happy for reviews and constructive criticism! On with the story!

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any of its character, though I'm going to borrow them for a short while here! This is purely for the fun of expanding on their stories!

Chapter 3: Explanations

No words could express the look on his face; a mixture of surprise, confusion, and anger. So many emotions flashed across his wary eyes in a span of only a few seconds, so very different from the dark man at her side. Cloud didn't say anything. His mouth was drawn in a tight line, as he stiffly laid his sword against the wall to his right.

Tifa looked expectantly from one man to the other, unsure of what to say. A palpable silence dominated the room, and she was loath to challenge it. It was a surprise when Cloud spoke first, but what he said did nothing to relieve the tension in the room. Taking purposeful steps to the bar counter, he pulled one of the stools aside before leaning back against it, propping up on his elbows. He eyed both Tifa and Vincent, a not so subtle frown set on his handsome face. "Well… it seems you really are back in town. It's been a long time, Vincent. You seem to be doing quite well." There was no humor in his voice, no real emotion behind the friendly words.

Tifa flinched at the sound of his voice, breaking the quiet's potent hold on her. Vincent said nothing; he wasn't even looking at the man reclining on the counter, but at some undefined point over just over his shoulder. He seemed strangely detached from the entire scene. Receiving no acknowledgement from Vincent, Cloud turned his attention to Tifa, who couldn't stop a shutter as their eyes met. She knew what he'd thought he'd walked in on…accused her of it enough times as it was. But she was compelled to explain…explain that this was nothing…nothing but a shoulder to cry on, someone who'd taken a second to really look at her and see the miserable fatigue in her eyes when everyone else simply looked the other way. Not that she expected him to believe her, but she had to try…Cloud had no right to be mad at Vincent, only at her if anyone.

Steeling her nerves, Tifa opened her mouth to speak, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. "Cloud, it's not…"

"Quiet, Tifa. You don't have to say anything…I should have seen it coming." Harsh, bitter words, so full of accusation. Tifa's eyes narrowed, her mouth drawing into a hard line as her anger began to burn.

"What _exactly_ are you saying?"

"Hah!" Cloud waved his hand dismissively. "I thought something like this would happen sooner or later. So how long as this been going on? You can at least answer that."

Tifa shook her head angrily. "Cloud, nothings going on! I just…broke down! I don't know why, but for some reason everything just hit me all at once and I couldn't stop crying!"

Cloud didn't seem to believe her, that bitter smile still marring his face. "Vincent didn't do anything! He just held me until I stopped crying, that's all! He wasn't even in town until a few days ago!"

Cloud pushed himself up off of the counter, standing to his full height of only 5' 7", his Mako eyes blazing in bitter resentment. "You really expect me to believe that? I know I piss you off sometimes, but I never thought you'd stoop to something like this."

Tifa's anger suddenly soared, her whole body trembling in agitation. She struggled to rein in her temper; one she didn't realize she had until recently. Cloud seemed to notice. "Come on, Tifa. Out with it. Say whatever it is you want to say. I'm listening."

She clenched her fist, fighting to keep the damaging words at bay like she always did, but it was different this time. This time, for some reason, she was ready to fight. She was suddenly too tired to pretend anymore. Her heart simply couldn't handle the stress any longer. Besides… _no one_ talked to her like that!

"Look Cloud, believe what you want. But you should know that I've loved you for as long as I can remember. I _still_ love you, and I would never cheat on you to hurt you. But that doesn't mean I'm blind to the fact that you haven't _really_ looked at me for God only knows how long! I just ignored it for so long…not wanting to believe it…but not anymore. I know you don't want me, don't love me, but that doesn't mean I feel the same way about you! So don't tell me you know anything about me or how I feel, because circumstances would seem to prove that you have no idea."

She paused just long enough to take a breath before continuing. It was now or never.

"I can't live like this anymore. I can't take the constant heartache. We never got married, and we never will. Maybe that was a good thing; it's going to save a lot of paper work. But this is it! I can't live my life knowing I'll never truly be happy with you. It's over, Cloud. I'm…I'm leaving. I have to go." She turned her back to him, hating the tears in her eyes, hating him for bringing their relationship down to this, hating herself for being so naïve…so needy. Why did Aries have to die? Why did he have to love her and not me?

"T…Tifa?" All the anger in his voice evaporated, afraid at the prospect of actually losing her. Cloud dropped his gaze to the floor, shaking his head in denial. "You...You can't go. Not like this." He dared a glance back up, but she wasn't facing him. She looked so fragile, still holding her arms protectively around herself. Somehow some of her hair had come lose and was now hanging by the sides of her tear streaked face. "I'm sorry, Cloud." Her voice was quiet, breathy with exhaustion. She turned towards him, her gaze unwavering. "I'm sorry she died. I'm sorry I couldn't do more to help you. But I can't stay here. I can't do this anymore. I just…I just can't." She sighed heavily, finally working up the nerve to make eye contact. "I need a break for awhile. To think about…things…sort out what to do next." Cloud started to protest, to say that she was wrong and it wasn't like that, but he didn't. He knew he'd be lying, and he could see in her eyes that there would be no changing her mind right now. She was truly fed up with it all…with him.

Vincent stood silently off to the side, feeling awkward and out of place. He glanced longingly at the door, wanting nothing more than to simply disappear through the wood frame and to forget everything he'd just heard. His claw twitched in agitation, his feet itching to move, however, try as he might, he couldn't make himself take even the tiniest step towards it. He felt responsible for what was happening. Hell, he was responsible, the catalysis if nothing else. And a true Turk never left something unfinished, especially if it meant compromising his reputation. So he just stood there, a silent observer of events.

Finally Tifa turned away again, her resolve spent. She needed to avoid Cloud's face because she knew if she looked at him now her determination would weaken, and she'd take him back. They'd find some remote corner to have sex in… a sort of wordless apology that would fool her into almost believing she had a place in his heart again. But Tifa didn't want that. She didn't want just a part of him. Maybe…maybe she really was selfish.

Taking a steading breath, Tifa left them both, heading into the back room behind the bar where she and Vincent's dirty plates still lay on the table having been hastily abandoned. She paused for a moment, letting a single tear slide down over her cheek. 'God, Vincent. I'm so sorry you got put in the middle of all this. But it isn't your fault…it would have happened sooner or later.'

Drying her eyes, she walked past the table toward the back of the small room, pausing only a moment to glance at her surroundings. It was mostly bare, just a closet, the two person table and chairs, and a small couch she'd often slept on during the bar's slower business days. Reaching into the wall closet she pulled out her blue jean jacket, pushing her arms through the sleeves in an almost mechanical fashion. With a trembling hand reached up and pulled the scrunchy out of her hair, letting the long strands fall down about her shoulders in a cascade of brown. Needless to say anyone watching would have found her quite beautiful at that quiet, sad moment, but there was no one there. No one to hold her and tell her everything would turn out all right, that she had made the right decision. She was on her own this time.

She closed the door quietly, flipping the light off as she turned to walk back to the main room. She stopped at the little table, picking up the dirty dishes. Taking a deep breath to steady herself she walked back into the bar, putting the dishes in the sink to be washed later. Tifa could feel icy blue eyes on her back, but stubbornly ignored her desire to face him. Instead she headed to the exit, stopping for a moment to look at Vincent, who was surprisingly still there, with a forced smile on her face. "Sorry I caused you so much trouble. But the offer still remains; you're welcome here anytime. I hope I haven't made you late for work."

Vincent watched her coolly before glancing away. "If it was a problem I wouldn't still be here."

Tifa smiled for real this time. "Of course." But it quickly faded as she turned to face Cloud one last time. "I'm closing the bar for the next couple of days. Please lock it on your way out. I'd appreciate it." With that she left, closing the door behind her. Leaving the life she'd grown so accustomed to in shattered pieces behind her.

Vincent watched as she walked down the street, noticing the determination in her stride, the way the sun shone off of her long, auburn hair as the wind gusted and sent it dancing about her head until she disappeared around the corner. Even after he'd lost sight of her, Vincent didn't turn to face the morose man who was currently drowning his sorrow in an amber drink. Cloud sat with perfect ease on the tall stool, holding his half empty glass absently, a tall bottle of scotch sitting on the counter to his right. He was watching the taller man with a mixture of curiosity and resentment. Vincent turned to face him, sending a silent reproach for the blondie's means of problem solving. Cloud just shrugged and tossed the liquid down his throat, wincing slightly at the burning trail it left in its wake. He followed it quickly with a second round, welcoming the warm numbness that was beginning to develop in his head.

Vincent stood there a moment longer, glancing towards the window once again, half expecting to see the woman in both of their thoughts returning with a changed mind and tears in her eyes. The wind outside was starting to pick up again; it shook the bare trees angrily, as if punishing them for some unknown crime. Suddenly a breathy half laugh caught his attention. Cloud had a messy smile on his lips, his brilliant blue eyes already slightly blood shot from the alcohol or maybe from unshed tears. He was watching Vincent carefully, his eyes flashing in bitter amusement once he was sure he had his attention.

"Well Vincent. It's just us now. Why don't you have a seat, I promise won't punch ya." Vincent didn't say a word; his only response was a subtle twitch of his brows. Cloud easily remembered the Vincent from Avalanche now, that tall, dark man, who never wasted his words or movements. The guy they had all been just a little afraid of... a former Turk and top-notch sharp shooter. A man that was little more than a shell of the person he once was, who had lost all his passion and ambition to restraint and control. Someone who quite literally battled his inner demons every day of his life. Vincent T. Valentine. Forever destined to be young and strong, destined to be feared and face an eternity of solitude and self-torture. The very same Vincent, that was standing not more than 100 feet away, still existing if not yet living.

Suddenly Cloud didn't feel quite as bad. If anyone really had the right to give up and drown his sorrows in alcohol it was Vincent. Cloud sat up a little straighter, turning his full attention to the man, taking in his appearance with less jaded eyes. Almost all black…everything about him was black, except for his golden claw and crimson eyes. Black, gold and blood red. "So you're still with us, huh, Vincent?" No answer, it was obvious anyway. "I'm not going to ask what you've been up to or anything, but it's good to know you didn't go off and just die somewhere." He swallowed another shot, hissing slightly at the burn. "Yeah, despite resent circumstances, it's good to see you. You certainly haven't changed. At least something around here is the same." The last comment finally garnered a response out of the thus far silent man. "Everything is apt to change, Cloud. It's only a matter of time."

Cloud let out an amused snort, "Yeah, except you. You're exactly the same as you were 35 years ago, and you'll always be just like you are now." He swirled the empty glass on the tabletop, before looking up again. "You ever get tired of living here, Vincent? Ever just want to end it all?" Vincent turned sharply and took several nearly silent steps to the bar, stopping only a few feet in front of Cloud, his face blank. "You knew this was going to happen." It was more of a statement then a question.

Cloud just laughed. "I knew. I just didn't want to admit it, I guess. I'm…I'm honestly surprised it didn't happen sooner. She's known for a while now that I…that I still love Aries. Maybe she always knew."

He shrugged, reaching for the bottle to pour another glass. Cloud was more than a little surprised when Vincent reached over him and pulled it out of his hand with his metallic claw. He held the bottled in front of his face for a few seconds, apparently reading the label, before putting it to his lips and swallowing a large mouthful of the potent alcohol. Surprisingly, Vincent handled the burning liquid quite well, simply squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before letting out the breath he'd been holding. A second later he set the bottle back on the counter just out of Cloud's reach. "That's pretty strong stuff. You should lay off." Cloud could do little more than gape, his eyes wide. His look of surprise slowly shifted to disbelieving amusement. "Yeah, it's one of Tifa's "homemade" blends. I didn't know you drank." Vincent regarded the man out of the corner of his eye, before gracing him with an answer. "I usually don't."

With that he turned to leave, walking to the door without so much as a backward glance. "Vincent, wait a second." He stopped holding the door open with his right hand. "Is what she said true? You know about her breaking down and all?" There was no need to ask who he was referring too. Vincent said nothing for several seconds, as if pausing for effect. "Yes." It was a simple answer, no explanations, not that he really expected one. Cloud shrugged, still not a hundred percent sure he believed them. Not wanting to believe them, because if he sat and thought about it he'd realize it was all his fault. He turned back to his empty glass, cursing silently when he realized he'd have to get up to reach the bottle. 'Damn it, Vincent. Damn it all.'

It didn't take long for most of the arrangements to be made, which was a great relief to Tifa. Within the week she'd found herself a new apartment in the building next door to her bar Hero's Haven. It was close enough to work that she wouldn't need Cloud and his motorcycle to get around and he worked far enough away from the bar that she could minimize her chances of running into him unnecessarily for the time being. So far, the move had gone smoothly, everything she could call her own was sitting in various boxes waiting to be unpacked and introduced to these new and unfamiliar rooms. She'd asked Vincent to help her when she'd run into him at the train station the day before, apparently he lived or worked somewhere close by, though she'd yet to ask about that. At first he'd seemed reluctant to get involved, but in the end had agreed to "assist her." True to his word he'd shown up, proving to be a tremendous help since he could carry several boxes at a time with ease up the 4 flights of stairs. Tifa had to admire his supernatural strength and endurance. Where she had been heaving in exhaustion after only a few treks, Vincent hadn't even slowed down until a couple hours later, looking none the worse for wear. He was down stairs at the moment picking up the last of her belongings.

Tifa wiped her brow absently, annoyed with the thin layer of sweat on her face even at this time of year. It had defiantly been a long day, and tired was something of an understatement. A quick nap on the couch might be required before she could focus on unpacking at this point. Taking a moment to collect her thoughts, she meandered around the apartment, trying to imagine her life here, where she'd put her things, what the furniture would look like with more of her personal touches in place. It could work…being independent for a while might be exactly what she needed to gain some perspective and figure out what she really wanted in life. Realizing she was thirsty, Tifa walked to her new kitchen, rummaging through the box labeled dishes until she found a cup. She flipped on the tap, filling it to the top before gulping the cool water down and wiping her face. Yes, she could defiantly get used to this, having her own place, making her own routine and rules. It would be a nice change.

The building was nothing special really, but Tifa had liked the place almost immediately. Something about living in a small cozy apartment made her really feel like she was home. It only had about 5 rooms total, 2 bedrooms, a bathroom, and a mid-sized kitchen/dining room combination that opened up into the larger living room. So far, only her couch and her 40-inch TV were set up in the living room. On the kitchen side sat her 4-person dinner table and its wooden chairs, the tabletop littered with boxes and other assorted pieces of junk just waiting to be put in their proper places.

The hallway was relatively short. Its floor carpeted in thick soft gray material that just begged to be felt with bare feet. Paint was nothing special either, the walls covered in a simple off-white color, but they held potential that Tifa was more than ready to bring out. In a bout of cheerful giddiness she took off her shoes and slipped out of her socks, savoring the feel of the plush carpet at her feet. She wiggled her toes playfully, enjoying the feel of the soft fabric between them, unable to stop the happy smile that seemed plastered to her face.

Vincent cleared his throat softly to get her attention. Prompting the young woman to spin around quickly, startled by his silent intrusion. Her cheeks were flushed a soft shade of pink, but her smile remained. Vincent stood patiently in the doorway holding the last 3 boxes in a neat stack as if they weighed nothing. There was a strange gleam in his eyes that showed he'd caught her in her moment of childish happiness, causing her to blush all the more. "You weren't supposed to see that, Vincent. You know you should knock before entering someone's home. Otherwise you don't know what you might accidentally walk in on."

A small twitch at the corner of his mouth indicated the arrival of the "Vincent smile". "Sorry. It won't happen again." Tifa huffed playfully, putting her hands on her hips in a mock display of annoyance. She looked at him with true joy in her eyes. Enjoying the fact, that her good mood seemed to be rubbing off on him, if only slightly. "I was just kidding, you know." She grinned again, letting out a small laugh of bewilderment. It was unbelievable! She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so unabashedly happy! Only a few days ago she'd been living with a constant weight in her heart, struggling through suppressed self-pity and insecurity. What a change since then! She was free from the stress and the worry, though if she was honest it did still come back every now and then to plague her thoughts. She knew it would simply require time. She had a lot of healing to do after all.

Vincent watched the glowing figure before him. Her burgundy eyes were blazing with excitement over her new home. She was dressed in a tight pair of blue jeans and a thin, dark green sweater that revealed her neck and shoulders; a little more skin than he would have liked, but then again, she'd been known to wear much less in the past. Currently, her hair was down, bound together with a tie at the very bottom like she wore it in the Avalanche days. It suited her. Keeping some sort of order to that cascade of chocolate in the mist of battle. Cloud was a fool not to realize how beautiful she was. Vincent realized belatedly that he'd been staring and quickly averted his gaze, focusing instead on the large pile of boxes to his left.

Tifa hadn't seemed to notice or if she had, chose not to comment. Setting her glass down on a clear spot on the table, she walked over to him taking part of his load before leading him back down the hallway to her bedroom. Her bed was already assembled, but it didn't have any sheets or pillows. Tifa mentally noted that those items would be some of the first she'd have to unpack later. Box in hand, she walked in the room, setting it carefully against the closet door to the far right, before turning to take the other boxes from Vincent. But when she turned to where she thought he was right behind her, she realized he hadn't followed her into the room; instead stopping just at the threshold, his red eyes unreadable. Tifa lifted a curious eyebrow before inviting him in. "Vincent, you can come in, you know?" He looked at her a second before approaching slowly.

Taking the last two boxes from him, she set them down next to the first one before turning to give him a thankful smile. "Well, we're all done for the day. Guess it's time to take a break, huh?" Vincent didn't acknowledge her immediately, his mind miles away. She didn't care though and continued on as if he'd answered. "I think I'm going to take a nap or something, but first I'm going to make some tea. You want any?" He shook his head, declining her offer and started for the front door, picking up his black jacket from the couch on the way. Tifa couldn't help but be a little disappointed, but it wasn't like she hadn't already taken up a lot of his time already. Besides, Vincent wasn't really the type to sit and have animated conversation after a busy day…especially considering their last serious talk.

Before stepping through the door though, he stopped and turned to face her, looking her up and down in a quick glance that caused her heart to jump into her throat. Tifa frowned internally. 'What the hell?' But her wondering ceased when his eyes found hers. Suddenly, Tifa couldn't breathe, couldn't take her eyes away from the blood red irises that bored into her.

Vincent looked at her as if he could read her every thought, like he could see through to her very soul. Then just as quickly it ended. He turned his head, letting his gaze take in the entire apartment. She had no way to know that he'd felt nearly the same sensation in that moment and didn't want her to see how unsettled he'd become. He wasn't anymore sure of what had just happened then she was, but he knew that something in her glowing smile had rattled a part of him that he'd thought long dead. And it scared him. He avoided looking her direction right away, but felt compelled to say something before he left. He wasn't even sure why he'd agreed to help in the first place, and now this. What was going on? Why was he here, standing in her apartment like it hadn't been years since they'd seen each other, like they were the best of friends? Warily his eyes found her again, and he noticed the same contemplative expression on her face.

"I have to go now." His voice sounded stiff, "However, if you require further assistance…" His sentence trailed off...almost in disbelief. Tifa was a grown woman. She could take care of herself. Said woman, looked up in surprise, apparently just as shocked by his offer as he was to give it.

"Oh! Um…thank you. I'll keep that in mind. And thanks for all your help today. I couldn't have done it without you." She smiled and nodded at him, pushing her confused thought to the back of her mind. She'd have plenty of time to process everything later.

Vincent shrugged slightly, "It was nothing." And with that he left, stepping outside into the chill fall air.

He walked silently down the stairs, his mind buzzing with a swarm of chaotic thoughts. If he really sat back to think about it, he might have realized that Fate was trying to say something…and somethings are apt to change…even him.


	5. Chapter 4

**Author Notes:** Hi, guys! I know it's been awhile since my last update, but life has been busy! Between being ill, work, and going out of town for additional training, I haven't had the time I wanted to write! Anyway, this is my first time trying to write any sort of action sequence so…hope it's not too awful! As always, read and review please! Keeps me motivated! Now, on with the fiction!

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any of its character, though I'm going to borrow them for a short while here! This is purely for the fun of expanding on their stories!

Chapter 4: Memories

It'd already been a month since Tifa moved into her new apartment, and Vincent hadn't laid eyes on her once since that day. Not that it should matter, but he couldn't get her out of his head. While he was at work or sitting at home with a book, anytime he didn't have something pertinent to focus on…she'd be there, her smile, her eyes, the way she moved so gracefully up and down those stairs, haunting him.

Vincent closed his eyes and leaned his forehead on the tiled wall in front of him, his right forearm pressed with steadying force against the same wall. Hot water poured over his head and down his back, streaming off the tips if his clawed fingers. Steam filled the entire bathroom, obscuring most of this body in its fog like quality.

He was tired. His back and shoulders throbbing with every movement he made, screaming in relentless protest as he stood up straight and popped his spine. He'd spent second shift unloading trucks because the NAWD department (New Age Weapons Development) at Tsuna Michi's hadn't had any new models to be tested that day. It wasn't what he'd been hired for, nor had he lifted anything that heavy in a long time, but it was work and as long as he got paid and was left well enough alone it didn't really matter. Of course, now, he was paying for using all that muscle. With his right hand, he slowly massaged the building ache in his left shoulder, relaxing the taunt muscle fibers under the water's comforting heat. After soothing as much of the pain away as he could, he turned to face the back of the shower, closing his eyes and breathing in the steamed filled air, savoring the hot water beating against his head and running down his back before getting to the task of washing his long hair.

The process was mechanical, and he let his mind wonder, unfocused, not really seeking a destination. Not surprisingly he thought of Lucrecia…and Hojo. He could remember clearly the night he'd lost everything that made him human. Lucrecia baby had already been born…Hojo's child, but she was dying from the poisons left in her body. The Mako and Jenova cells in her blood chewing away at her from the inside. He'd been with her when she'd finally collapsed, his heart and mind crying out at the unfairness, the impossibility, tears in the corners of his then bright blue eyes. But he could do nothing except hold her. She lay there suffering in his arms…in the arms of the man who _truly_ loved her.

Vincent balled his hand and claw into tight fists, staring at his feet as the water continued to pound the back of his head.

After that something inside of him died along with her. He was in a blind rage, anger and grief tearing him apart, blasting his normally calm rational into a tangle of unruly chaos. He remembered marching down the stairs to the Shinra Laboratory, out for Hojo's blood, ready to shoot him point blank in the head. He wanted to watch the life fade from his yellowed eyes, see that bastard's blood soak into the hard stone floor at his feet, for putting her through that pain and suffering…for causing her eventual death. He was going to make Hojo pay.

The corner of Vincent's mouth curved upward at the thought…yes…he was willing to do just about anything to see that man die. But Fate or whatever you wanted to call it, had decided to side with the Professor that night. A loud gunshot echoed off of the tall walls and ceiling, deafening in intensity. And he'd crashed to the floor, Vincent Valentine of the Turks out maneuvered by a sniveling little piece of shit scientist. He remembered the agony from the wound and the taste of his own blood in his mouth…knowing he was dying…bleeding to death. Hojo'd shot him, the bullet entering his left lung, shattering ribs and cartilage as it ricocheted in his chest finally exiting through his back. Vincent could remember the smirk on that bastard's face, the feel of the cold stone against his cheek. He remembered burning with pain, then cold…then nothing as he slowly faded into unconsciousness. However, Hojo wasn't even close to done with him.

Vincent almost laughed at the irony, Hojo had been just as mad at him for trying to get Lucrecia to leave that place and the monsters they were so intent on making. Vincent wasn't the only one with blood on the brain, though his motives were all selfish…Vincent had hurt his pride…"stolen" her affection and her motivation to work, putting his precious experiments in jeopardy. And one thing Vincent had learned about Hojo long ago was the man did not tolerate interference. He'd crush anything in his way, including one of President Shinra's prized Turks if it meant reaching his goals it would seem.

Vincent didn't know how long he'd been lying on the floor when two ruff hands grabbed at his collar and flipped him onto his back. But he remembered being dragged across the floor watching with strange interest the bloody trail left in his wake... noticing how it seeped in to the cracks between the stones to form a sort of grotesque smear of crimson.

Vincent spread his metal fingers over his chest absently where the bullet had gone through him. It and the long pale surgical scar that ran the length of his chest were the only real serious physical blemishes he'd retained from his past, if you ignored the nearly invisible crisscrossing surgical scars. Thanks to Hojo's repeated tinkering, Vincent couldn't scar anymore…no matter how severe the injury…it always healed completely, and with incredible speed. A bullet wound now only took a couple of hours to mend if he took the time to pull it out first. He ran his tongue absently over his overly sharp canines. If he were so inclined he could also make up for any blood loss by taking what he needed from someone else, though the very thought of it disgusted him…he'd been forced to resort to that little trick more than once. He wasn't really a vampire per se, didn't need the blood and didn't crave it, didn't have the light sensitivity, but it was a backup all the same.

Of course that was just another _gift_ from Hojo. His abnormal strength, the red eyes, the healing, his incredible hearing and sight, his speed, the eternally youthful body, the fangs…it was all because of that Jenova creature's cells. The claw, however, was completely Hojo's. Nearly indestructible metal encased his left arm from the elbow down, the pins holding it together drilled down through muscle and bone. The arm underneath was something barely resembling his old appendage of pale flesh, and whether he liked it or not, tt was a permanent part of him now and forever.

The whole process of turning man to monster took much longer then he cared remember. It would have killed most people, but Hojo made sure Vincent wouldn't die…made sure that Jenova's cells would merge completely with his own, before locking him in a coffin in the Shinra Mansion basement to rot. It was over 30 years later before he was discovered and released.

That day had been both a blessing and a curse. Vincent hadn't exactly welcomed his rescuers with open arms content to stay where he was until he finally withered away and died. But they were after Hojo and Sephorith. So he'd agreed to help them if only to get revenge. His skill with guns had indeed proved quite useful.

But neither he nor the group known as Avalanche had expected the transformations. There were 4 in all…3 of which, he could control with enough concentration and determination…the 4th well, who could control the essence of Chaos? That was Lucrecia's special gift…her way of keeping him alive through it all…her curse for him, left behind in her research and implemented by the mad Professor. Though, in the end, Vincent was able to save his friends because of it.

Usually he only had to worry about transforming if he became angry or upset… emotion was their outlet. Emotion made him weak enough to lose his control over them. It caused him to lose his precious concentration. So he'd given up emotion for the sake of those foolish enough to be around him, for their relative safety. Galian Beast, Death Gigas, and Hellmasker were easy enough to rein in…their minds little more than that of a bloodthirsty predator, but Chaos…it was an entirely different story. It was intelligent and much stronger, full of dark wants and alluring temptations. It had managed to force a transformation on him more than once…too many times to be safe in his mind. It wasn't safe for anyone to be near him with that thing…ever. He never knew for sure if he'd end up losing control. But Avalanche had tolerated him, even been friendly, though he knew the rest of the world would not be so forgiving if they found out.

Vincent swore angrily, shooting his right arm out to punch the shower wall, shattering the yellow tile. It took him a second to realize what he'd just done, but the dull ache in his knuckles was indication enough. Shaking his head in annoyance he pulled his fist back from the wall, barely glancing at the various lacerations. The water washed the blood away quickly enough anyway. Holding his hand up to his face, he slowly flexed his fingers, the sharp pain almost welcome. It let him know he was still alive, that he could still feel something, even if it was always only pain.

Suddenly a soft smile graced his lips. Maybe he did have a masochistic streak. Lucrecia had often picked on him about that whenever he'd gotten an injury on one of his missions as a Turk. She would be standing next to him, her green eyes sparkling through her glasses as she held on to his arm. First that coy smile would grace her face. She'd stare him down and say that he'd gotten shot on purpose just to make her worry or just to satisfy his sick need for pain. They'd always just laughed it off, but maybe there was some truth to her words after all.

Tifa had made similar comments whenever he took a hit for someone else. He'd had a number of injuries from such stunts, some more severe than others. Probably his worst one was from the claws of a monster that resembled a puma. Tifa had been distracted just long enough to leave her back unguarded and it hadn't hesitated to strike out. But he'd seen it coming, readying his rifle before running to intercept the attack. He managed to get a shot off nailing it in the head, but not before the damn thing raked its sharp talons across his chest, quite literally slicing him open. His blood sprayed out from the wounds in a shimmering arc, staining his cloths and the ground before him, draining his strength, but he hadn't cared as long as she was ok. His life meant nothing so long as she lived.

He remembered standing there for a moment numb from the attack, three long diagonal stripes reaching from his right shoulder down and across his stomach to his left side. Eventually the numbness dissipated and was replaced by agonizing pain. Seconds later he'd collapsed to his knees using his claw for support, grinding his teeth together to stifle the cry that threatened to escape. With his right hand he'd tried in vain to stop the gushing wounds. Tifa was at his side in an instant, face full of concern before chiding him for his stupidity. She'd told him not to do it again, that she could take care of herself, that she though he was smarter than that, but he could see the appreciation in her eyes as she as the others worked hastily to patch him up. It was the last thing he could remember. He'd passed out shortly after.

A day later and he was as good as new. But she'd found it necessary to repay his rash, even suicidal act, with a generous hug. It had been the first time since his long hibernation that anyone had touched him willingly or with such kindness. She'd held on to him so tightly, been so warm, so excepting and friendly that, just for a moment, he'd almost felt human again. He could almost feel her warm embrace now, her powerful but feminine body in the circle of his arms. Her soft, eager lips pressed against his…

He shook his head quickly to rid himself of the thought. 'Don't kid yourself, Vincent.' Turning the shower off, he stepped out and grabbed a white towel, quickly drying off. A moment later it was tied around his lean waist, a second towel in his hands to dry his long ebony hair.

Vincent shuffled over to the mirror letting the second towel fall to his shoulders. With a tired sigh he reached up and smeared the moister from the glass surface, the cuts on his knuckles pink with the growth of new skin. Once upon a time he would have been awed; the sight of his rapid healing shocking him into silence, but that time had long sense passed. Now it was just a part of this body's normal routine, because it wasn't his. By all rights he should be an old man. He was what? 62 years old now.

He looked up into the mirror his face void of any emotion; the face that stared back was not that of an old man's. It was his face from over 35 years ago, the face _she'd_ fallen in love with, except now he had red eyes instead of blue and his hair was much longer. But he still looked the same, hadn't aged a wrinkle, in essence still 27.

Vincent had almost always been handsome, even during his adolescence, but he'd never been inclined to use his appearance to his advantage. Pierce had often given him a hard time with that. Dragging him to bars and strip clubs even when they were supposed to be on duty, trying to get him a date for the night. But he'd never really enjoyed those excursions, his mind usually occupied elsewhere. He just didn't care. A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, even his boss noticed his disinterest in the pursuits of the flesh. Niel Johnson was convinced his subordinate was gay. Of course, it wasn't long after that awkward conversation that he'd become uncharacteristically interested in Lucrecia, abruptly ending the suspicion.

So many memories, all from sooo long ago, would he ever move on…suddenly the phone rang, bringing him out of his thoughts. Who could be calling at this hour? He walked down the hall to his living room, picking up the phone with impatient haste. "Hello?"

"Vincent? Is that you?" He shifted his weight.

"Tifa?" The voice on the other line let out a relieved sigh. "Thank God, you're home! I wasn't sure you'd be there. Someone is…someone is trying to break into the bar. I'm not sure who or how many there are though. I don't know what to do to stop them. Normally I'd take them on myself, but I twisted my knee earlier today breaking up a bar fight. I can barely walk with this brace on."

Vincent raised an eyebrow. "You should call the police." Tifa humpfed quietly.

"I already did, Vincent. But I don't know when they'll get here. I'm…I'm a little scared, ok?."

Vincent held the phone in front of his face, his mouth set in a hard line. He knew it must be something other than just the possible robbery that had Tifa so concerned. She didn't scare easily. But why call him? Surely she had friends who would help her. But…his wary mind argued, you're her friend too right?

"What do you want me to do?" He stared ahead at the tall bookshelves crowding the walls of his living room, luke-warm water dripping down his back from his still wet hair. Tifa took a moment to answer, surprised by his almost business like tone.

"I don't know…I just… I'd just feel better if you were here. I need someone to watch my back in case those idiots try something stupid. That's all." For the second time in just a few moments her words shocked him into a numbed silence. He absently ran his sharp fingers through his wet hair, clenching his eyes shut.

"Vincent? Are you still there? Look…you don't have to come…just… talk to me…I need to hear something besides those idiots breaking glass down stairs." He shook his head even though she couldn't see the gesture. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he was going to regret this. He didn't want to get involved with her life anymore then he already had. He had too much on his mind as it was. But she'd called _him_. Asked him for help when she could have just as easily called Barret or even Cid instead. She wanted _his_ help. Taking a breath he answered.

"No…I'll be there soon. Just stay in your apartment."

"Ok." He set the phone down gently, before walking quickly down the hall to his bedroom. Pulling out a navy blue dress shirt and black pants, he dressed quickly, tying a matching bandana around his forehead to keep his wet bangs out of his eyes. Still tucking in his shirt with one hand, he reached for the closet door, yanking it open. Inside was an assortment of shirts, jackets and his stash of "Turk equipment." He pulled out his long black overcoat and shoulder holster before shoving the clothes on the hanger aside to gain better access to his collection of firearms. With barely a glance, he selected his favorite 9mm pistol, stuffing a few magazines of reloaded ammunition in his coat pocket. It wasn't like he needed to take his best, most powerful weapon with him to handle a couple of robbers. Giving his silent, dark apartment the once over, he turned to leave, shutting the door behind him.

Vincent practically disappeared in the evening shadows outside, only his bright red eyes able to pierce the darkness around him. Something in the back of his mind kept nagging at his consciousness, but he couldn't figure out what it was trying to tell him. Shaking off the eerie feeling, he marched down the dark street, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he listened to the night around him. The roads were empty by this time, only occupied by an occasional drunk that hadn't quite made it home. He ignored them easily enough, walking at a blistering pace down the sidewalk. The couple of people he did pass by gave him plenty of room, as if sensing his sinister intentions.

Vincent stared ahead, taking gritty alleyways and other cut-throughs to get to Tifa's apartment as quickly as possible. He glanced at his watch, 3:30am… Late, too late to catch a train. Soon Hero's Haven was in sight, though at first glance nothing seemed out of place. Vincent looked up to Tifa's apartment building. There must have been a table lamp on because he could see her silhouette in the window. He'd warn her later about the dangers of sitting next to a window in case of a fire fight, but at least she was smart enough to keep the curtains drawn. For a second he hesitated, torn between two instincts. Half of him wanted to go check on her, just to be sure she was well and unharmed, but his rational mind demanded he deal with the problem first. He decided to head towards the bar. He could handle the robbers easily enough, besides there was no telling when the cops would arrive if they did at all. Reno wasn't exactly the most reliable police chief out there, known for missing a few late night calls in lue of some "professional" tail.

Working the renewed kinks out of his neck and shoulders, Vincent stalked calmly to the front door, keeping out of sight as he inspected the building. A quick search revealed that the bar had indeed been broken into. The doorknob was little more than a disfigured piece of metal, meaning there was at least one gun he'd have to deal with. He pushed the door open gently, using his enhanced vision to survey the nearly opaque interior, before taking a cautious step inside. The sight that greeted him was less than impressive.

Broken tables and chairs were toppled and scattered all across the room. The large glass mirror behind the bar was broken into pieces, the reflective shards scattered across the floor like tears. Tifa's expensive hardwood floors were stained with alcohol from the broken bottles, some still dripping off the counter top. Vincent strode over to the said counter, noticing the deep groves cut into the well-polished surface, her padded stools ripped and torn. There were bullet holes everywhere, like someone just stood back and peppered the entire room with machine gun fire. He shook his head ever so slightly. This was methodical, personal even…someone intent on ruining the establishment as well as robbing it. He tilted his head to the side, listening. There were footsteps coming from upstairs... Tifa had a small office and stored supplies and merchandise up there if he remembered correctly. Vincent took it slow, trying his best to determine exactly how many people where in the building. If he had any luck, he wanted to avoid killing anyone tonight. It wouldn't look very good for the bar's reputation if he ended up littering the room with bodies.

He headed towards the base of the stairs, closing his eyes as he listened to the movement of the…two men above him. They didn't know he was there yet…obvious by their excited conversation. Too bad he was about to ruin their night out. Suddenly there were footsteps behind him too. Vincent spun to face an astonished third man, not entirely sure how he'd missed the vandal in the first place. The guy blinked in surprise at the unexpected intruder. "Who…who the hell are you?"

Vincent didn't bother with an answer, quickly assessing the situation in his mind. Attack now…or try to talk it out. He could tell right away that this guy who'd shot up the place. Vincent immediately recognized the weapon tucked under the guy's arm. 'Machine gun, fully automated, 10 mm rounds. What the hell…?' Suddenly there were feet storming down the stairs, apparently his two partners heard his shocked voice and came to investigate. Vincent eye'd them coolly. They certainly didn't seem like your everyday ruffians. Machine gun man was tall and lanky, inexperience enough to still have his weapon resting uselessly at his side, but covered in thick, maybe even armored, combat fatigues. No…obviously more than just a street thug based on the weapons alone. Not trained killers perhaps, but possibly ex-military or professional 'mercs'.

The leader, or the man who asserted himself as the leader, was the next to approach. He wasn't as tall as Vincent, but had the muscle mass to make up for his shorter stature. His head was mostly bald, though he boasted large black sideburns on either side of his face. He was dressed in camouflage pants and a black t-shirt. A long red scar reached from his right temple down to his jaw, where it became lost in his stubble. His dark eyes found Vincent's steely red ones.

Vincent could tell almost instantly that this man was more experienced. He held the Ex-Turks's intense gaze with cautious regard, masking his surprise and anger relatively well for someone ballsy enough to try to pull off something like this in the wee hours of the night.

"Who the fuck are ya?" Muscle man demanded in a gravelly voice. He looked Vincent up and down with a questioning scowl, waiting for an answer. In vain since Vincent had no intentions of giving him one. He could feel the burley man's impatience almost like a physical presence. This man did not appreciate Vincent's intrusion one bit.

Suddenly the man's face turned a bright beet red as he reached for Vincent's collar shoving him back a couple steps. "I asked you a question, asshole! Who the fuck are ya and what're ya doing here? This here is our stake and you're not about to get our way!"

Vincent stared down into the beady eyes, completely ignoring the hand around his collar. He didn't answer; nothing in his entire demeanor giving away his thoughts. Who were these men? What were they doing here in Tifa's bar?

Muscle man grit his teeth in frustration at his thus far fruitless interrogation, determination wrinkling his brow. This fucker was going to talk! One way or another! With a surge of anger he suddenly released his grip, drawing his meaty fist back before ramming it forcefully into the side of Vincent's face. It made a solid connection with Vincent's jaw, snapping his head to the side violently. A vicious flash of anger seared through Vincent's mind the second that fist made contact, but he held it back. These men didn't know what they were about to get into. He still wanted to try to end this without a fire fight. Vincent took a calming breath before leveling his piercing gaze on his assailant; eyes flashing a heated warning that discouraged any further misadventure, the small trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth going unnoticed.

"Ha…glare all you want, bastard. But if you don't start talking my buddy, Mic, over there is going to start blowing holes in you. And I know the last thing you want is to end up as a riddled corpse for not answering a few simple questions. So what do you say?" The lanky man behind Vincent, Mic, slid the automatic's strap off his shoulder aiming it at his back, a sadistic grin spreading across his thin face. "I thought I'd never get to use this thing for real. Ready when you are Rob."

Rob nodded, a satisfied smile on his face, apparently he was quite enjoying this little power trip.

"So. Let's try this again, shall we? Who, the mother fuck, are you?"

Vincent glanced briefly at machine gun man, his voice calm and steady. "My name is of no concern to you."

Rob blinked, his smile widening a fraction. "Ah…So you can talk. Good. But you still didn't answer my question." This time it was Vincent's turn to smirk. "Obviously, I have no intention too."

Anger flashed across the man's grizzly face, but he swallowed it down, attempting to keep his composure. A hot head, this one. Vincent watched impassively as he snatched a knife from his right boot cuff, and held it loosely in his left hand, good humor fading ever so slightly. "Fine. What are you doing here then, smartass? Keep in mind I'm not in the mood for your bullshit. I've got more important things to finish up here than talking to your creepy ass. So let's cut to the chase and stop wasting my time, ya bastard."

Vincent ignored the insults, his eyes calmly searching around the bar, a plan quickly taking shape in his mind. It was getting less and less likely that he was getting out of this without a fight. "As I'm sure you've surmised. I am here to stop you from doing any more damage to Ms. Lockheart's property and to turn you in to the appropriate authorities." The three men gave each other disbelieving looks before drowning in choked laugher. Rob wiped tears from his eyes as he fought to catch his breath. Vincent's blank expression didn't change, seeming for all the world as if he'd never spoken at all.

Suddenly his calm voice cut through their boisterous laughter, immediately silencing the three men with its utter finality. "I suggest you come with me now, peacefully, or I can take you by force. Either way you are going to answer for this pointless destruction."

Robt was the first to respond, chuckling to himself again at the none so subtle threat.

"In case you haven't noticed Hot Shot, there are three of us and only one of you. You have a machine gun pointed at the back of your head and a 4 time weight lifting champion standing in front of you. You don't have any room to be making threats, buddy."

"You will not come quietly then?" Rob's lips twisted into a cocky smirk before he answered with a brazen "Hell no!"

Vincent didn't wait to hear more as he sprang into action, reaching behind his back for Mic's weapon. He twisted it fiercely out of the unsuspecting man's hand before he could pull the trigger, throwing it out of reach to the other end of the room as he spun around, using his metal fist to smash his dumbfounded face in. Mic reeled back from the blow, both hands flying up to his broken nose, leaving him completely open. Vincent didn't waste a moment. He grabbed the disoriented man by his shoulders before landing a powerful knee in his gut. Mic fell unconscious in a boneless heap on the floor, nose still bleeding. One down.

Presley, the third man in the group, pulled a pistol out of the back of his pants aiming it with deadly precision at Vincent's head, his face calm and calculating as he opened fire. With a silent curse, Vincent ducked behind a toppled table letting the worn wood absorb the gun's fury for him. Had to have at least one sharp shooter in the pack, huh? Crouching low, his senses on full alert, Vincent reached for his own weapon, holding it next to his face as he counted the rounds that threatened to take his life. 'There! He's out.' Vincent stood suddenly aiming at the gunman, eyes shining dangerously. He pulled the trigger without hesitation, watching stoically as the gunman recoiled from the hole in his right shoulder. Presley collapsed to his knees, a pained wail in his throat as he grasped blindly at the bleeding wound. Face instantly pale, he looked up at Vincent once, his eyes wide with fear and pain, pistol forgotten on the floor only a few feet away. He looked like he would say something before he was sprayed in a shower of bullets.

Vincent almost didn't react in time to avoid the surprise attack from behind, throwing his weight to the right just as the stream of angry projectiles tore at the place he'd been standing just a second before…unfortunately, Presley wasn't so lucky, and was now little more than a bloody heap on the floor.

Vincent sprinted across the length of the room, bullets hot on his heels before diving behind the bar counter heedless of the broken glass that cut into his arms and legs. He lay there a second, both arms over his head as the deadly fire blasted everything around him. Then just a suddenly it stopped, the abrupt silence followed by a muted curse. Vincent scrambled to his feet, but stayed below the line of the counter, pressing his back against the sturdy wood. It wasn't exactly intentional, but he'd just allowed himself to be cornered. A stupid rookie move.

He was breathing heavier than he liked, and had to force himself to take slower, deep breaths as he listened to the sudden quiet around him. 'Where? Where was that ass hiding?' Vincent took another slow, steady breath. Evidently, there was little loyalty between these men. Fine. Just take him out quick then. The silence lasted a few moments longer before Rob decided to speak up, his voice strained with obvious tension as he attempted to sound nonchalant. "Nice…nice moves there buddy. You aren't some raw recruit are you? Sucks for Presley though. I was just starting to like the guy." Vincent shook his head none too pleased with the way this was going so far.

Rob spoke again, "It's cool though…'cause I'm going to blow your fucking brains out all over 'Ms. Lockheart's' nice polished floor! NO ONE screws with Robert Palson! Ya hear me?! NO ONE. Your ass is mine!"

Vincent didn't bother to reply more concerned with pinpointing his enemy's location. More machine gun bullets drilled into the wooden counter, getting dangerously close to hitting the man crouched behind. At least now Vincent knew were Rob was holed up. Somewhere to the right, but Vincent couldn't get a decent shot at him unless he stood up since the counter ran straight into the right wall.

Vincent's options where limited. He could abandon his shelter for a better vantage point, but good ol' Rob might end up cornering him once again, putting him right back at square one. Plus, wood wasn't exactly the best at providing substantial machine gun cover. What he needed was a distraction. Finally a plan presented itself. He knew it was hazardous to attempt, but he really couldn't think of any better solution at this point in time that didn't involve transformation or whole sale slaughter. Thus decided, Vincent took a deep breath, readying himself for the pain that was likely to follow. He just needed one shot. Only one. If he could get that it'd all be over.

Vincent stood silently raising his gun arm to one of the large light fixtures overhead. Just as he expected Rob saw him move and raised his own weapon, keeping his body shielded behind an already bullet ridden table. "You're fucking dead, Hot shot!" He opened fire, spraying a couple dozen rounds at Vincent, who managed to swat most of them away with his metal claw. The sound of sharp pings and dings echoing throughout the room. But he couldn't stop them all. Two bullets slipped past his defenses, one grazing his left hip, the other hitting him solidly in the stomach before making a messy exit out his back. The bullets threw Vincent back a step almost ruining his shot.

Even though a couple bullets wouldn't be enough to kill him, they still hurt like hell. Vincent's stifled gasp came out as a pained hiss through his clenched teeth as he sagged against the counter top. He knew he was bleeding badly, the front and back of his shirt already soaked through. He coughed once, sending an entirely new wave of pain through his body. Stupid bullet…must have hit something vital…

But his efforts hadn't been wasted. Vincent's 9mm did its job. In the mist of dodging machine gun fire, he'd managed to take a single shot at the light fixture hovering innocently over Rob's head. The bullet's path hit home, severing three of the four support cables. With a loud groan, it fell. Rob, too busy gloating over his wounded enemy, failed to notice the danger until too late. The heavy wooden structure plummeted to the floor below, effectively pinning him beneath.

Vincent didn't watch the whole scene, his own injury more important. He covered his wound quickly, pressing his hand to the bleeding whole in his gut. Dark red blood seeped through his fingers almost instantly, coating the pistol in slick gore. Of all the places to be shot, stomach wounds were some of the worst…always bloody…one of the most painful places to take a bullet. In only a few seconds, his shirt was saturated. Vincent realized suddenly he was straining to breathe, every movement racking him with pain, stealing his precious breath away even more as his lungs heaved for air. He needed to get out of there before he passed out, the police would probably be there soon to clean up the mess and he didn't want to deal with the fall out right now.

Vincent spared a quick glance around the room. Presley was exactly where he'd left him, lying in an unnatural position on the floor…full of holes. Not that Vincent particularly cared, he hadn't killed him afterall. Mic was still unconscious on the floor not much further away, his nose no longer bleeding, while the leader remained trapped under the heavy chandelier, also no longer aware of his surroundings. Undoubtedly neither man would be up before the police arrived.

Slowly Vincent pushed himself up with shaky arms, wincing as another wave of agony washed over him. The wound was already healing, he could feel it, but not nearly fast enough, blood still pouring down his back and stomach, some of it hot in his throat. He had to make himself take slow controlled breaths so he wouldn't pass out. 'Now what, Vincent?' He looked around again, surveying the damage, his vision becoming unnervingly blurry at the sudden movement. The place was trashed. 'Tifa will be most upset.' With a quick shove, he was on his feet again, the room around him spinning in protest, floor slick beneath his feet. Didn't matter though, he had to make sure she was still ok. Spinning room be damned.

A small rustling sound to his right caught his attention seconds before he was thrown back with an explosion of fire and pain in his left shoulder. Bone gave way as he crashed in a heap to the floor, the sharp snap of displaced bone drowned out by the loud echo of the gunshot. But it was too little too late. A second bullet, fired in near unison with the first, rested snuggly between Robert Palson's shocked eyes. His head thunked bonlessly to the floor.

Vincent cursed silently, hand automatically going to his left shoulder to help stifle the bleeding. Stupid bastard…should have just stayed down like a good boy.

With that he dropped his head back, bracing his spine against the floor as he prepared to pop his dislocated shoulder back in place, ignoring the fresh blood on his fingers. With a loud crack, it slid back into place, though the surge of pain almost caused him to black out. All he needed was a minute…he'd be fine once the bleeding stopped. He could heal then…just lie on the floor and heal.

Suddenly the front door flew opened. Vincent looked up wearily, not all that surprised to see an astonished Tifa standing there dressed in blue bunny pajama pants and a white tank top. "Oh, my God! Vincent!"

She ran to him as fast as her labored efforts would allow, pulling him to his feet and throwing his good arm over her shoulder. "Vincent! What the hell happened? You're bleeding everywhere!"

He looked at her with slightly glazed eyes, taking fast shallow breaths. "Just…handling your glass breakers."


	6. Chapter 5

**Author Notes:** Hello once again! Not able to spend as much time on this experiment as I'd like, but rest assured it will be completed! Even if slowly! This was a HARD chapter to write, but I think I like it! As always, read and review please! Keeps me motivated! Now, on with the fiction!

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any of its characters, though I'm going to borrow them for a short while here! This is purely for the fun of expanding on their stories!

Chapter 5:

Chapter 5: Awkward

Vincent didn't know how she'd managed to get them up the stairs to her apartment with her busted knee and his labored stumbling, but she did. Pushing the door open with her free hand she led him over to her over-stuffed couch commanding him to sit. He shook his head, regretting the movement when his vision started to swim. "No…I'll get it… bloody."

Tifa craned her neck to look up into his pale face in disbelief. He was worried about her damn couch at a time like this? "Just sit, Vincent. I can get a new one." He whispered a quiet "no" before collapsing to his knees, taking her with him. Tifa let out a pained yell as her braced knee was forcefully bent under their weight. Silent tears formed in her eyes, but she stubbornly refused to let them fall. Vincent need her help…now! Making sure his wasn't going to pass out right then and there, she stood awkwardly reaching for an empty chair.

A moment later and Vincent was haphazardly seated, his human hand automatically reaching for his bleeding shoulder, the holes in his stomach and leg further along in the healing processes. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes as he tried to focus on anything but the writhing pain that seemed to burn like hot lava through every vein. He could feel his canines throbbing in time with his heart beat, but refused to surrender to the course of action they suggested. He didn't _need_ it.

Vincent'd been shot before of course. It wasn't all that uncommon in his previous line of work, even less so after joining up with Avalanche. The first time was in his hip after he made a royally stupid rookie mistake, then a year or so later in his right shoulder, not to mention the numerous injures he'd sustained helping bring down Sephorith, but never the stomach. And it hurt like a _bitch!_

The wound by itself wasn't usually life threatening, but the potential for uncontrolled blood loss was. He'd seen fellow Turks die from such wounds in the field, unable to staunch the bleeding in time. Not that that would happen to him…his 'modifications' wouldn't allow it, but it _hurt_ all the same.

Suddenly Tifa was at his side again trying to help him sit up. He turned his attention to her, not quite sure when she'd left in the first place. The corners of her beautiful eyes where pinched with worry as she flipped open the first aid kit on the floor. He watched as she dug through it mercilessly pulling out gauze and medical pads. She looked up at him without warning, and he turned away not wanting to see the accusations and concern in her eyes. It reminded him suddenly of the first time he'd been shot after meeting Lucrecia. He'd watched fascinated as she busily rushed back in forth in almost frantic concern as she worked on treating the wound. The look in her eyes when their gazes met unexpectedly. Realizing for the first time how much those very eyes had haunted his dreams and tormented his thoughts with relentless fervor….wait a minute…

It took him a minute to realize Tifa was calling his name, trying to get his attention. He looked at her again; she was ready to dress his wounds. "Vincent, you're going to have to take your shirt off. I can't get to it like this." He watched her a second longer, trying to place the tone in her voice…was it apprehension? Well, who wouldn't be? Not once had one of his "friends" ever seen him dressed in less than pants and a t-shirt. Not that he'd ever felt inclined to change that.

Looking down at the front of his shirt he reached a bloody hand to the top button, mentally scolding himself for his lack of foresight. After what felt like hours he managed to get it undone, moving on to the second one with trembling fingers. Tifa waited patiently for a minute, but upon realizing the trouble he was having, took a small breath and reached out to help him. He started to protest, but she was already done before he had a chance to say much. She tried to ignore the blood on her fingers as she helped him pull his arms free of the bothersome fabric, wincing in sympathy when she heard his teeth grind together.

Vincent leaned forward carefully, pulling his left arm out of his ruined shirt, a pained grimace on his face. Tifa took it from him and threw it in a pile on the floor; it's once blue color now almost completely black with his blood. She turned her attention back to him, forcing her eyes not to wonder. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't curious to see the man beneath all the dark concealing clothes and the disinterested persona. But now wasn't the time to be inquisitive.

The bullets had gone straight through so she wouldn't have to dig around for the lead slugs she realized with a sigh of relief. Reaching to her right she pulled a bowl of warm water towards her, wringing out the wash rag floating around in it. Vincent raised an eyebrow. When did she get that?

Her voice was soft, comforting as she spoke to him. "Vincent, this is going to sting, but try and stay still, ok?" She looked up to make sure she had his permission to continue. He was watching her with those intense red eyes, but he nodded. A small smile formed on her lips. Was he this formal about everything?

Steadying herself, she began to clean his wounds, washing the blood away to reveal his pale, smooth skin underneath. He was littered with dozens of white surgical scars, ranging from several inches long to a few centimeters, testaments to the horrors he'd survived, though only two looked serious, both from Hojo no doubt. One was a small crater-like scar near his heart, the other, probably from where he'd been cut open trailed down his chest to his abdomen. Tifa had to close her eyes for a moment, before continuing with her cleaning. Just the idea of being cut open like that…knowing he was awake…

Taking a shaky breath she continued to clean his wounds, noticing despite her best efforts how perfectly toned his body was; thin, lean muscle that gave him definition without the bulk of a body builder. Cloud's build was similar, though he'd lost some of his definition in the last few relatively quiet years. Silent tears pricked her eyes suddenly…'Cloud… Avalanche's infamous leader, the kid, the nutcase, the best swordsman they had…wonder if he's ok?'

Vincent soft grunt woke her from her thoughts. She'd just prodded him a little too hard on his wounded hip. Her eyes shot up to his, an apology on her lips, but he just slowly shook his head. "It's ok, Tifa." She smiled at him apologizing anyway. "Well you're all clean now, but I don't have enough gauze to wrap your stomach, shoulder, and your hip. I know you heal quickly, but you shouldn't leave any of them uncovered right now. I don't want you getting an infection." Vincent looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, and then silently reached behind his head for the blue bandana he'd used to hold his long black mane out of his eyes. He untied it quickly handing it to her, a slight frown on his face as his hair swept forward and into his eyes. Tifa took it from him quickly and began wrapping it securely around his left shoulder, waiting until he was ready to tighten it. He only winced slightly at the pain, letting out a slow breath, finally feeling numb now for the most part.

Tifa used her gauze to wrap his abdomen, careful not to touch him more than necessary, remembering belatedly how he didn't care for it much. Still she couldn't stop her wondering eyes any longer. Hoping he didn't notice, she stood carefully carrying the now red water and medical supplies back with her to the kitchen on the far side of the room, watching him from her new vantage point.

She studied him from behind. Vincent was still reclining heavily against the back of the chair, his eyes closed, lips parted in a silent sigh as he continued to breathe in slow deep breaths. His thick black hair hung down in his face and over his powerful shoulders reaching down to the middle of his back. Tifa realized she'd never seen him without his bandana on…or his shirt for that matter.

Vincent _was_ pale, but not unattractively so, made more dramatic by his choice of dark clothes. He was tall too at 6 feet; only Barret had surpassed him in height when they were all in Avalanche. He had long lean arms that matched his long legs. Right now, she couldn't tell if he was still in pain or not, but he seemed to be comfortable enough for the time being. He had his left leg stretched out before him now, his right arm draped carefully over his stomach.

Tifa suddenly realized she'd been staring, and quickly looked away surprised at the blush that colored her cheeks. 'What's the matter with me? It's just Vincent. It's not like I didn't practically live with him for a year or helped patch him up before.' 'True,' her mind chided, 'but that was different. You weren't alone and scared like now. You had a mission to focus on and Cloud to hold you and tell you everything was going to be fine. Who do you have now…'

Tifa shook her head to clear her thoughts, but it didn't really help. Who was she kidding? The last month had been one of the hardest in her life. Things had been better without having to worry about what kind of mood Cloud was in or if they were going to argue again, but she had still been unbearably lonely at times. The boredom that came with living alone didn't help any either. She needed to get a hobby and fast. 'Preferably, one that doesn't involve ogling, Vincent.' But she was happy, right? She didn't have the constant insecurity hanging over her heart, and she was free to do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. So she should be fine! She _was_ fine. But one look at the dozing figure in the chair and she realized she wasn't. She was better, sure, but not completely healed. Why? What was wrong with her? Was she really that needy?

Tifa frowned slightly at her racing mind. She wasn't satisfied because… she… well, to be frank, she didn't want to be alone forever.

Vincent's soft voice drew her out of her circular thoughts. He was calling her. Tifa limped over to the edge of the kitchen counter so she could hear him better and leaned against it. "Yes?" Her heart raced in her chest…something in his tone was different.

Vincent had his head turned to look in her direction, so she was only able to see one side of his face, his expression one she couldn't place. "Do you need something, Vincent?" Her voice was nonchalant, but friendly…perfectly unrevealing too.

"No, it's just…" He paused, turning to look at the blank T.V. in front of him, his sudden silence hinting at hesitation. "Are you ok?" She blinked in surprise. 'Oh…that's why he seemed uncertain…he must be remembering the last time he'd asked that question.' "Y…yeah. I'm ok. Better now. Why…do I look like I'm not?" She glanced down at herself, suddenly remembering her leg. Maybe that's all he meant?

He shook his head. "No, I suppose not. You seem…calmer…now."

That was probably true…she'd been less than calm on the phone. Tifa limped back to where Vincent was sitting, plopping down on her soft couch, suddenly thoughtful. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she adjusted herself, leaning towards him with the tiniest of smiles on her face. She couldn't help it…something in her needed to mess with him. "I suppose that's probably true. Tell me, Vincent… why is it…why is it I'm not scared of anything when you're around? I feel like nothing can hurt me."

He didn't look at her, focusing instead on the T.V. again, staring holes into the empty screen. He didn't answer and Tifa smiled a little to herself, watching him squirm internally. She waited patiently for a while before poking him lightly in the shoulder. "You'd better say something to me Vincent Valentine or do I have to beat the answer out of you? I think I stand a chance now, tough guy."

Her attempt at humor was the last thing he was expecting. He turned to face her, a slightly surprised look in his crimson eyes. "Tifa…wha'?"

But she waved him quiet suddenly feeling like she needed an answer after all. "Don't play dumb with me, Vincent. I know you know what I mean. You feel it too… that I'm less tense with you around. Why do you think that is?"

He greeted her with silence again, knowing Tifa wasn't done yet, waiting for what she really wanted to say. She wasn't even looking at him anymore, obviously lost in her own thoughts.

"You've been… different the last few times I've seen you. Maybe I should be asking what's wrong with you, huh?" She faced him, eyes hesitating on his mouth before seeking his eyes. "You're always watching me…watching what I do, how I react to what you say to me. Mr. Observant, I know, but I never knew you were so damn nosy." She stopped abruptly, closing her mouth with a snap. But it was already too late, the words spoken before she'd thought about them. "Oh Vincent, I didn't mean…" But he didn't let her finish.

"You're right. I apologize. Forgive my rudeness." He looked away again, a slight frown on his handsome face. "I won't bother you with my unnecessary concern anymore." He wouldn't admit it, but that tiny comment stung more than it should.

Tifa was shaking her head fiercely, her long lose hair falling over her shoulders. "No, Vincent. I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry! I _appreciate_ your concern! I really do! It's just…different…coming from you. You've never been the type to seem bothered by much of anything… let alone the people around you, honestly. Please don't be upset." He wanted to say that he wasn't…that he didn't care what she said to him. He deserved to be called worse, but the lies wouldn't form, so he said nothing. His silence didn't have the affect he thought it would however.

"God. I sound like such an ungrateful bitch. I'm so sorry Vincent! I…I should be thanking you! You came all the way over here in the middle of the night to help me when you could have just as easily ignored me. You stopped those idiots down stairs from completely ruining my business, even though you didn't have too." Tifa looked almost frantic in her haste to apologize, frustrated at her nothing of an insult to him. "You've even been shot…Three times!...because of me!" She was on her feet quicker than he thought possible, suddenly so close to him.

The emotion in her eye's blazing in intensity. He sat up a little straighter, watching her with his own unreadable gaze, those frightening, yet beautiful red eyes. Suddenly she stopped, taking a deep breath before continuing in a calmer manner, arms limp at her sides as if in defeat.

"Thank you Vincent. Thank you for coming to my bar when I was all but through with my life. For helping me realize I have a chance to make things better, rather than spend the rest of my time living in someone else's shadow." She was standing almost directly in front of him now, her burgundy eyes pleading with him to understand. "You've been so much more help then you realize, Vincent. You've done so much more for me in the past month then some of my closest friends have in their lifetimes. Thank you. Thank you so much…" And then she kissed him.

It didn't last long, his mind barely recognizing what had happened when she just as suddenly pulled back. But her lips were soft and warm against his, so sweet and sincere. So incredibly enticing, everything he'd imagined and more. And wrong though it may be, he wanted to feel them again.

Searching her eyes for permission, he reached up with his right hand, forcing himself to stand awkwardly, despite his body screaming in protest. Holding her gently by the back of her neck, he pulled her into another kiss, her head bent back to accommodate his height. Vincent suddenly forgot how to breathe. It didn't matter though. He could suffocate a thousand times as long as she didn't stop, didn't pull away from him.

Tifa's heart skipped a beat as their lips met for the second time. She couldn't believe this was happening. Being near him like this was unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. She was dreaming, surely it was all just her over active imagination. But he was so very warm and he was kissing her. _God_ was he kissing her, his lips warm and cautious, but at the same time so blissfully demanding, so much better than a dream could ever hope to be.

Tifa was surprised at how willingly she matched his intensity, her hands reaching up to tangle themselves in his long, raven hair, pulling him closer. Injuries all but forgotten, he drew his left arm across her back, the cool metal sending shivers up her spine. Slowly she pulled away from his mouth, touching her lips to his jaw before making her way up the side of his face in a burning trail of feather light touches. He leaned away to give her better access, his eyes half closed. She felt him shiver when her lips found his ear, a mischievous smile spreading over her face. Something to take note of…

Tifa continued to kiss him gently along the jaw, before snaking her tongue out to lick his ear. She smiled at his hiss of surprise.

"You liked that, huh?" He didn't answer. He didn't need to. She reached for his ear again, but he pulled back claiming her lips as his instead. Her mouth opened slightly, and Vincent took the invitation, sliding his tongue across her lips before moving to explore her warm mouth. She was just as eager to investigate his it would seem, his previous hesitation quickly fading into a passion he'd long forgotten he had. He couldn't explain the thoughts running through his mind, the wants and the needs this beautiful, strong woman had somehow awoken in him in just a few short weeks. The way her touch could make his skin burn, his heart beat faster. She took his breath away. His well-rehearsed self-control was nearly forgotten when she sighed with pleasure, leaning into him.

Suddenly his eyes shot open…it was laughing! _Chaos_ was laughing! He pushed Tifa away hastily, ignoring the hurt look in her eyes, as he stumbled back a step. What the hell had he been thinking? He couldn't have her. He was…dirty, tainted. Chaos was a demon born of corrupted Lifestream. A demon meant to slaughter innocent masses and lead the world towards its ultimate destruction. And it was forever a part of him! He'd been able to use it at times to save his friends, but it was unpredictable and extremely difficult to control. If he lost his concentration at the wrong time, he wouldn't be able to stop a transformation. Chaos' consciousness would take over and kill everyone… Tifa included.

Vincent shook his head violently. He'd never be able to forgive himself if that happened. He wouldn't be able to live with the guilt. He looked at Tifa again his eyes wide. She was standing there with a look of confusion and hurt on her face, still so very beautiful, her lips swollen from his bruising kisses and her skin tinged a sweet shade of pink. She had both of her arms around herself in a tight hug.

God, how he wanted to hold her again, tell her he was sorry. That it wasn't her fault. But he knew what could happen if he did. The thought of an unexpected transformation into that monster while he was with her disgusted him on so many different levels it was hard to fathom. It made him sick to his stomach. She didn't know, he couldn't control it like the others…she didn't know how dangerous he was. And somewhere along the line he'd stupidly forgotten.

He took another cautious step back bumping into his chair. With a breathless sigh he slumped down in it, leaning forward with his right hand over his eyes, his left arm hanging off his knee. He didn't say anything for a while. He just sat there, trying to calm his ragged breathing, to forget those soft, excepting lips he wanted so badly to taste again. Finally gathering his thoughts he looked up, his bright eyes piercing straight through Tifa's. She shuddered in spite of herself.

"Vincent? What's wrong? Are you…are you mad at me? I'm sorry. I…" She came to a stumbling halt apparently afraid to go on. He was looking at her so intently, but she couldn't read his expression…he was on full defense and unless he choose to answer her, she'd never be able to guess what had happened to make him push her away so quickly. He didn't appear to have anything to say, so she licked her lips preparing to try again.

"Vincent…" He cut her off, voice a strange combination of exasperation and resolve.

"I'm sorry Tifa. I can't…I can't do this. She looked at him confused, but at least he had the decency to sound as hurt as she was even if he didn't look it.

"I don't understand, Vincent. What happened? Did I do something wrong?" She was chewing on her thumb nail, a habit she thought she'd conquered long ago.

"It's not your fault." He sighed at the cliché. He couldn't just leave her with that. "Tifa… you know that I'm not really … all human anymore. You know about the monsters that lurk within me, about Hojo's experiments." She looked at him with confusion, ready to interrupt with questions, but he continued. "I can't be what you want me to be. I can't risk hurting you. I won't risk it." She shook her head. She wasn't even sure what she wanted him to be yet, damn it!

"Vincent, what are you talking about?" There were tears in her eyes. "If it's about you're past, you know I don't care about all of that. I didn't let it get in the way 5 years ago when we all fought to save this planet and it doesn't matter now. You are just yourself. You can't change your past and no one expects you too. That's not who you are anymore!"

He shook his head, eyes dropping to his feet. No…no that's not it. That wasn't it at all. "Tifa…I…I can't control it by myself. It'll kill you if I give it the chance." It took her a second to realize what he was saying. "What are you talking about… the demons? Chaos? Vincent, you can control it! You did when it first …woke up. We've fought alongside it several times and never once did it so much as growl at us."

"It was only concerned with the more immediate threat….It is much stronger than the others. I'm not even sure if the others are even there anymore. I can't feel them like I used too. Chaos…" He spat the name like a curse. "It was laughing."

Tifa looked stunned. "You mean you can hear it?"

He looked up at her briefly before dropping his gaze. "No. Not normally. But I heard it laughing just a moment ago. Maybe…maybe it's gotten stronger."

Tifa looked at him with genuine concern, braving a step forward, but his bright eyes found hers, silently commanding she keep her distance. She stopped, considering what to say next, what to do to keep him from retreating back into that shell of his forever. If he left now, she knew there was a good chance she'd never see him again.

Suddenly she understood…she knew he had to see for himself that Chaos wasn't as powerful as he seemed to believe; that he could control it if he had too and that she could accept him…demons and all.

"I think…you need to prove to yourself that you _can_ control it."

"What?" He was looking at her like she'd grown another head, though his voice remained soft.

"Let it out now. You're scared to give it a try, I know, but you don't have to be. Maybe…maybe the only reason it's so powerful is because you allow it have power over you. It's a demon, right? It's probably feeding off your fear, Vincent. I know you can control it if you concentrated enough." She stopped, sucking in a deep breath before adding off-handedly. "Besides… you're still injured. It'll heal you." As if on cue a ripple of pain laced through his gut, still he shook his head. "It's not that simple, Tifa." His voice was tired, wary.

"I think it can be. You were just shot three times, right? Five years ago that was more than enough to trigger a transformation. But you didn't change…why do you think that's true?" Vincent looked at her thoughtfully. She had a point…any other time Chaos would have been clawing ravenously at his conscious mind. But this time…there'd only been a slight hint of a whisper. Why? It was foolish to think he could in any way really understand Chaos. He knew it would surface to preserve his life or when he was threatened with a situation his _human_ body alone couldn't handle…a part of him, but not him. Though it hadn't emerged in the bar…

Maybe…maybe he did have some influence over it. He hadn't felt it fight for consciousness without his approval in quite a while actually. Maybe he… He glanced briefly up to Tifa's waiting face. She believed he could handle it, that his consciousness was stronger, the look on her face confident in the satisfaction that she was right. He closed his eyes. But he couldn't risk it. Not if it meant she would be in any sort of danger. Chaos would kill her, without hesitation, without a sideways glance.

Tifa watched him mull over his thoughts in silence. She knew he could do it…Chaos may be strong, but it couldn't be stronger than the other three demons combined. Vincent was the master and it was his body, changed or not; he just had to convince himself first. He had to prove he could use the demon's rage and strength as his own while still remaining in control of his mind.

When he finally looked up again, Tifa realized he'd decided not to try. For once, she could see it plainly on his face and it pissed her off. Fuck it… she wasn't going to let him run away from it that easily. He needed to face his fears… for both of their sakes. He couldn't keep using it as an excuse to run away from the world and hid behind those thick emotionless walls. If he didn't come to terms with his past he'd never be able to have a future. A future, she suddenly wanted very badly to be a part of.

Thus convinced, she stomped over to him determined to make him at least try. He stood up abruptly as she approached, grimacing slightly when he twisted a little too sharply. What she did next completely stunned him.

Drawing back her right fist, Tifa slammed it with all the force she could muster into his stomach. Then with her left hit him in the jaw, knocking him completely off balance. He landed on the floor hard, rolling over on to his side to protect his aching wound. "Come on, Vincent! Get up! I know you can take more than that." Bracing herself against the couch, she delivered a powerful kick to his lower back. With a pained hiss, he rolled over, forcing himself to stand and gain some advantage to her powerful fist and feet.

His vision swam eerily with so much movement after so much blood loss, causing him to sway slightly on his feet. He had to force his eyes to focus, but almost immediately ended up on his back, as she swept his feet out from under him. He grit his teeth as pain shot through his entire body, something in the back of his mind screaming that he get up and stop this abuse. But he knew what she was trying to do…almost admired it. Her faith in him…

"Tifa, stop it! It's too dangerous." He forced himself up on his elbows, shoulder screaming in protest. "No, Vincent! Not until you realize what you can do! Come on! Fight me!"

He rolled to the side just as her foot landed in the vacated space he'd been in a moment before. Tifa threw another punch, but he caught it with his right hand. She quickly drew back her other fist, hoping to force him to let go of her hand, but he caught it with his claw, metal talons immediately tight around her fingers. She struggled to pull her arms free, but his grip was superior. Fine.

Balancing her weight on her injured leg, she swung her left foot with practiced accuracy towards his ribs, wincing as she felt the bones crack underneath. Vincent stumbled back from the blow, releasing her fists and collapsing down to one knee. New pain erupted from his side, his back and stomach still aching from her attacks, shoulder shooting fire down his arm. All he could see was red.

Tifa pulled back, ready to hit him again, when she heard a low growl rumble from his throat. She sighed. 'Finally…' Not daring to take her eyes off of him, she retreated quickly, ready to defend herself at a moment's notice. She'd never actually watched him transform before, but that growl was not easily forgotten. She watched as he stood slowly, raising his bowed head to look at her. Tifa gasped, his eyes had already changed; irises glowing an unearthly yellow behind half lowered lids, a fanged snarl marring his handsome face.

Suddenly he bent double, letting out a pained moan as his body began to grow and change. Already sharp canines grew longer, ears becoming pointed. His smooth pale skin turned nearly transparent with dark black veins crisscrossing underneath like ancient runes in some places, while becoming completely opaque black in others. Tifa couldn't believe her eyes, something icy and hard settling in the pit of her stomach. It took her a moment to recognize her own fear, that cold sweat on the back of her neck, as she watched.

Vincent continued to change, to grow larger, stronger, the black skin on his shoulder blades splitting open suddenly as two huge, black and red, bat like wings ripped free from his back. Tifa involuntarily jumped back, unable to turn her face away from the amazing, yet grotesque sight before her. Chaos' wings completely filled the small room, knocking one of her table lamps to the floor where it shattered into unrecognizable pieces. Slowly Vincent flexed his new appendages, a satisfied grin pulling at the corners of his mouth as he felt the strength they held within. Low, throaty laughter filled the tiny apartment, announcing to the world that Chaos was free again and standing not more than a few feet away from his next anatomy project.

Shaking its horned head from side to side, Chaos took a step towards her; molten eyes boring into her as it moved nearer. It was huge! Its muscles rippling with fearsome power underneath his eerily patterned skin. The face that looked at her was still somewhat Vincent's…still so much like him, but it leered at her in a way that said only blood would satisfy. She had to escape now!

Tifa took a slight step to the right, but was stopped in her tracks as a gold tinted claw slammed into the wall next to her head, yelping in shock as her fear began getting the best of her. Maybe this wasn't such a grand idea after all. Chaos brought its head closer, its yellow eyes burning like a hellish inferno. Tifa pressed herself against the wall as much as she could, but there was no escape. If Vincent didn't get control soon…

The demon smiled wickedly, reaching towards her with dangerously curved talons, running them along her cheek. Tifa could see the sick pleasure in its eyes, but refused to scream as she turned her face away. Her whole body seized with trembling as she closed her eyes. 'You can do it, Vincent. You have too.' she prayed. Chaos growled wickedly, raising his razor sharp claws in preparation to rip her apart. Its teeth glittering threateningly as its face split into an eager grin…a grin that disappeared an instant later as the demon stumbled back, clawed fists clamped over its ears, hissing and growling in anger and pain. It shook its head from side to side; eyes open wide one second then clamped shut the next, mouth open in a soundless scream. Slowly it began stepping back…snarling in distress, unable to focus on anything but what was happening in its head, giving Tifa the escape she needed.

He was doing it! Vincent was fighting Chaos. Suddenly the demon swung its arm out, obliterating her T.V. and nearly her in the process had she not managed to duck below the attack. She watched with increasing relief, as Vincent fought the demon back. Slowly, ever so slowly, at first it began to weaken. Its burning eyes lost some of their unearthly brilliance, gradually changing back to the eyes she was familiar with. Tifa watched as Chaos shrank in size, both claws covering its grimacing face, as its inhuman skin became more and more pale, Vincent's body slowly taking shape once again.

The wings were the last to go, still stubbornly attached to the otherwise human man. It was a few minutes more before they eventually folded and shrank, completely disappearing beneath his skin.

And there stood Vincent, a dazed look on his face. Surprise lingered in his eyes when he turned to look at her. He was exhausted, and out of breath, but he'd done it! He _was_ stronger, and with practice, maybe he could fine tune his use of its power.

Tifa limped over to him, a huge smile on her face. "You did it! Vincent! You beat it!" He nodded slowly in acknowledgement. "And here you said it couldn't be done." He turned to face her, her eyes glowing with triumph… and pride. He smiled ever so slightly, before letting his gaze wonder to the ceiling as he said his silent thanks. That whole fiasco could have turned out much worse…

Tifa beamed at him. "I knew you had it in you! I knew you could handle it." Still in a state of exasperated disbelieve, he nodded in acknowledgement, a weighted sign on his lips.

"Indeed. It appears I was mistaken." Tifa's smile was radiant, an all too knowing look in her eyes. "What?" Tifa put a hand to her mouth to conceal her grin.

"It's just…I don't think I've ever seen you be wrong before."This time he smiled sincerely.

"You just haven't known me long enough."


End file.
